Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World - Chapter 449

Chapter 449: Robbery 3

TL: Etude Translations

Dwarf Imar’s heart was in turmoil as he witnessed the two humans in front of him making a pulling motion with their fingers, causing their iron tubes to spew terrifying flames. Following this, the nearest orc warrior fell to the ground.

After firing, they immediately handed their used weapons to their comrades behind them and received another loaded weapon in return.

Imar had observed the reloading process. The humans would stand the weapon, almost as tall as them, upright on the ground, take out a small object wrapped in cloth or leather from a bag, bite it open, pour some black powder into the barrel of the weapon, then use a long iron rod to ram it down before lifting the weapon to adjust the slow-burning fuse at the end. The weapon was then handed to a comrade in front, and a new round of slaughter began.

The entire sequence was carried out with practiced ease, flowing smoothly like water.

The southbound exploration team carried eight matchlock guns, forming a firearm squad led by Deputy Captain Matthew.

The two best marksmen in the group handled the shooting, while the others were responsible for loading the guns, ensuring a continuous output of fire.

These marksmen were not only skilled shooters but also had stable mindsets, not panicking and firing beyond the effective accuracy range of the firearms.

The matchlock guns used by the exploration team had smoothbore barrels. Although hitting a targeted enemy beyond a hundred meters was almost a miracle, within fifty meters, their hit rate on large targets like humans was considerable. Especially since the shooters were lying on a slope, which provided stability for their elbows, making the aim steadier.

…

“Evil sorcery!”

Gunther, the mastermind behind the robbery, was already full of regret.

However, his regret was not about committing the robbery, but underestimating the cunning and deceit of humans.

He had come to view those flame and smoke-spewing weapons as a kind of special wand.

There seemed to be shaman-like figures among those humans.

After the front-running warriors were taken down, he cleverly hid behind a large rock.

The others followed suit, either hiding behind obstacles or lying flat on the ground, instinctively feeling that this might be effective.

Without mental preparation for sacrifices before the action, the initially fierce charge halted abruptly.

The orcs dared not advance, and the humans did not dare to descend, leading to a brief calm on the hillside.

“You!” Gunther pointed angrily at an orc hiding with him. “Is the bow on your back just for show? Fool! Quickly take down the human shaman!”

“Yes, Lord Gunther!”

The orc archer immediately grabbed the bow from his back, nocked an arrow, and quickly shot it after a brief exposure from behind the rock.

In reality, he didn’t have time to aim at the human with the “wand”; he just shot at a random target.

However, the next second, under Gunther’s watchful eyes, the archer’s head exploded.

With a thud, brain matter sprayed more than a meter behind.

The orc archer fell dead.

…

“Ugh!”

A member of the exploration team clutched his chest; he had been hit by an arrow.

“Quick! Get the bandages and powder!”

Stanford rushed to the injured teammate.

“Target those with bows first!” Matthew shouted, and everyone became extremely alert.

Stanford pulled out scissors to cut open the injured man’s clothes.

Oh no, he internally screamed in despair.

The orc’s arrow had hit him in the chest.

The young lad, writhing in pain, used his last bit of strength to say, “Captain, please… take me back to my hometown, even if… even if it’s just… my ashes.”

Gradually, he breathed his last.

“Damn it!”

Stanford growled as he pulled out the arrow.

To his horror, the arrowhead was made of bone.

This was what had killed his brother! He revised his assessment of the orcs’ combat ability – not only were they strong, but their reactions were incredibly sharp. The orc archer had just exposed himself briefly but had already locked onto a target and hit it. Stanford doubted he could have aimed that quickly in such a short time.

Matthew was a skilled shooter, but his ability to hit the enemy was because he had been closely watching the large rock where the enemy was hiding. If their positions were reversed, and he had to shoot from cover under intense pressure, he would likely miss.

Stanford wondered how many more such skilled opponents were in the enemy ranks.

…

Gunther grieved for the fallen orc archer, lamenting the loss of another capable fighter.

However, he also noticed something – when the archer’s brain matter sprayed out, a small object seemed to shoot out from the back of his head.

Was it a dart or bullet enhanced by witchcraft?

Seeing his side suppressed by an unknown force, Gunther felt they could not continue like this.

Since the magic wand did not harm people out of thin air, there must be a way to counter it.

He took off the metal shield he was carrying and roared with all his might, “Aaaahhhhhhhh!!!”

If anyone had observed his face, they would have seen Gunther’s eyes nearly splitting apart, his mouth wide open, revealing his terrifyingly sharp teeth in a ghastly grimace.

His roar was so loud that it echoed through the mountains for a long time. Stanford felt a strange throbbing in his heart upon hearing it, an uncomfortable sensation like drinking several cups of strong coffee in one go. The expressions of his other team members seemed to indicate they felt the same.

The first roar seemed to be a signal, as other hidden orcs also began to roar, albeit with much less intensity.

“Not sure what the enemy is up to, but I believe we can get through this! Grenadiers, get ready to counter their charge,” Stanford encouraged his team, then took out a horn and blew it.

The powerful sound of the horn countered the orcs’ roars, calming the team members a bit.

“Charge!”

Gunther, swinging a large club in his right hand and holding a shield in his left, was the first to leap out and charge up the hill.

Just a few dozen meters to cross!

“Aaaahhhhhhhh!!!”

The orcs swarmed out, following their leader in a run.

“Throw!”

At Stanford’s command, the grenadiers lit the fuses and tossed grenades downhill.

On flat ground, there might have been a limit to their range, but on the slope, the grenades rolled down smoothly.

The booming explosions created a spectacle of flames and smoke. The actual damage was minimal, but the impressive display stunned many orcs. The noise left them dazed, their ears ringing as if all other sounds in the world had ceased, leaving only the uncomfortable buzzing.

Some unlucky ones were hit by shrapnel, grimacing in pain.

The orc charge faltered, but some were still unaffected. The humans’ crossbows joined the shooting, with guns targeting those with shields and crossbows picking off the unshielded, bringing down these approaching foes one by one.