I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

“Boom—!”

A huge shell fell not far away; a brilliant flash lit the air and was immediately followed by a deafening explosion.

The violent shock threw Faste off his feet on the platform and he collapsed into a pool of blood.

The crowd watching below the platform instantly fell into panic and began trampling and squeezing toward the exits.

“Boom—”

Another shell dropped, swallowing every sound near the execution platform.

Smoke and dust from the gunpowder spread, blotting out the sunlight.

At the rear of the Astal defensive line outside the city, a new batch of armored tracked vehicles rolled down from their flatcars in neat order; the soldiers began refueling and resupplying in an orderly fashion.

Not far away, two artillery wagons lay like sleeping beasts, quietly stationed on the turntable, waiting to be awakened.

Soldiers around them inspected every fixture up and down.

On the wagons, the long, massive gun barrels were raised high, flashing a cold light under the sun.

The recoil spades around the carriages bit deep into the earth.

When the gunner pressed the firing button, the forces of nature were unleashed under the guidance of human ingenuity.

The gun trembled and let out a low, powerful roar; the air was torn by the muzzle into an invisible barrier.

Amid the ear-splitting blast, the six-hundred-jin (≈300 kg) charge shell screamed skyward, tracing a dazzling arcing trail across the horizon.

Each firing made the ground seem to tremble; the air filled with the smell of smoke and gunpowder, as if declaring its mighty power to this world of magic.

With the railway gun roaring into life, Astal launched its general assault.

Other field guns frantically hurled shells, bombarding the front walls of the Hendak Territory.

Heavy mortars lobbed shells behind the walls to sever Hendak’s lines of fire.

A large number of armored tracked vehicles began a charge, quickly breaching the barbed wire and trenches Hendak had set up.

The machine-gun crews shielded by steel plates pressed their triggers with grim determination; twin Maxim guns tore everything in their path to shreds.

Although black powder was far less powerful than magical powder, it was much simpler to produce and far cheaper.

So Mitia had taken up the black powder formula again and continued its use: what it lacked in power, it made up for with more barrels.

Heavy machine guns were further distributed down to lower units to strengthen platoon-level firepower.

As a railway gun’s near-mystical hit shattered a city gate into fragments, Hendak’s external defenses teetered toward collapse.

“Quick! Throw the charges! Blow that iron lump up for me!”

After the rebels had used explosive charges so many times, Hendak had also discovered their enormous military value.

What did it matter if men were ruined? They were the least short of people.

Dazed and filthy, Faste seized the Church soldier beside him and pushed him forward.

“Dig down below and offer your loyalty to the Goddess! Hurry!”

The archbishop beside him finally reacted and began directing Church soldiers to take explosive charges and rush out through the gap in the wall to find armored vehicles to detonate against.

“In the name of the Goddess!!!”

“For the glory of the Goddess!”

Countless Church soldiers shouted a variety of fanatical slogans as they charged.

Although most of the suicide attackers were shot dead by accompanying soldiers, some who played dead or slipped past detection managed to detonate their charges.

The violent blasts hurled armored vehicles and nearby infantry into the air; explosions of various sizes kept ringing near the walls.

Astal’s assault momentum stalled briefly, but as the soldiers reacted and began pulling out grenades to clear paths, no enemy force could reach the armored vehicles again.

Without the protection of solid walls, the disparity in firepower between the sides became obvious: Hendak’s troops often only had time to fire a single bullet before being taken away.

But the magic warriors led by Faste showcased their advantage in close quarters.

When he led a squad—sometimes with one or two lieutenants—into melee, it was often a bloody massacre.

Ordinary people were, after all, ordinary; their physical reaction times were far slower than a magic warrior’s.

And the heavy weight of the supporting Maxim guns made it difficult for them to target and exploit a magic warrior’s mobility in narrow streets.

As the army pushed deeper, the ubiquitous Church suicide troops in the rear command infuriated Lawrence, who swore nonstop.

One detonated charge could wipe out an entire squad’s combat capability; such losses tormented him.

Since the new Astal had formed, he had never seen so many die.

【We are on high, we love our Mother of Heaven! Thou art the true god who created all things! Praise and bless Thee; by Thy power and great love, by Thy will, I will in the name of the Goddess bring down righteous...】

“Pfft!”

“Archbishop—!!!”

“Your Grace—!”

“Enemy attack!!!”

The archbishop clutched his chest; a faint golden light flowed from his palm and swiftly healed the wounds on his body.

He stared in bewilderment at the Church knights and soldiers who rushed up to concern themselves with him.

Why had he not sensed the threat? Who could have breached the layers of guards and attacks to reach him inside the lord’s manor without him detecting it?

Ten minutes earlier...

“No matter what you do, except for him, all the rest of these wounded must be sent to the front!” he had ordered.

The wounded on the beds around him had worn numb looks, as if they were not surprised or afraid of the fate that awaited them.

The nuns struggled in their last attempts.

“No! You can’t do this! This is against the teachings of the Goddess...”

“Can’t? Then you all go to the battlefield together!”

Miwei ignored the greetings of other church members and, with an indifferent expression, walked into the monastery hall and came up behind the Church army officer.

A dagger slipped from beneath her voluminous nun’s habit into her hand.

The officer—stern and quick with words—suddenly felt a searing pain in his back.

He immediately lost strength and collapsed to the ground.

Screams and chaos exploded through the monastery.

A large number of Church soldiers rushed in from outside and, seeing Miwei stained with blood, drew their longswords and muskets.

As the prospective saint, Miwei’s status within the Church was not low; aside from her foster godmother, only someone above the rank of bishop could reprimand her.

Therefore, although every soldier took an attacking stance, not one dared to actually fire or lay hands on her.

Miwei paid them no mind; she looked with some satisfaction at the dagger stained in her hand—precise three cuts to the heart, liver and kidneys.

She had not botched a single stab.

Then she turned to the crowd.

“The batch of wounded taken away last time all died. This time it will be them—who will it be next time? Which one of you?”

She ripped off her white headscarf to reveal a tousled mane of blond hair.

The Church badge at her pale throat, which kept shedding a faint golden light, attracted every eye.

A cry rose from the crowd at once:

“The badge—it’s broken!!!”

“She has wavered in her faith! She has betrayed the Goddess!!!”

【Friends! Do you remember the ideals you held when you first joined the Church? Mercy, fellowship, justice—where are they now!】

【We cruelly pushed our classmates into certain death. Today it is them; tomorrow it will be you. This quagmire of war has no end.】