Here’s the chapter, enjoy~
Chapter 22 – Armed Subhumans
In the vestibule of the abandoned church building designated as the Central Operations Command Center, I pile up the crates from my storage one after another. I only roughly organize and sort them. There was no way it was all over after the handover anyway. On the contrary, there was a sense of turmoil from the very beginning.
Not only the beastman, who is direct and quick to express their emotions, but also the normally expressionless elves and the stern-looking dwarves were gazing at the pile of heavy weapons and barbed wire with half dismay and half expectation.
Unlike the elves, who were calm and collected for better or worse, the dwarves were stubborn engineers who were initially skeptical about guns, a weapon they had never heard of, but after one test firing with my AKM, they were converted to supporters.
Surprisingly, as soon as they saw, heard, and touched it, they began to understand and come to their own conclusions about the advanced features and threats, advantages and disadvantages, problems and solutions.
“What the hell is this? Spear… No, is that a ‘gun’ too?”
“This box has unfamiliar characters. No, the box itself is made of compressed composite material…”
“Wait, Yoshua, where did you get all this stuff?”
“Oh, you. You’ll get tired of worrying about every little thing Yoshua does, you know?”
That’s rude, Myrril-chan.
Yeah, that’s right, although it’s also true that most of you who calmly begin the confirmation process.
The barbed wire comes in rolls, and just by spreading it out and fixing it, it becomes a difficult obstacle to break through. The dwarves were the ones who immediately noticed its effectiveness. Perhaps because of their race’s expertise in metalworking, they were the first to notice the nasty features.
“…This is insane. You can’t get past this kind of thing with ordinary determination, and on the contrary, you’ll be trapped and unable to move.”
“Right? When they stop, that thing will reap what they sow.”
I was pointing at the M1919 heavy machine gun. In terms of ammunition, the M1919 heavy machine gun uses the same rifle ammunition as the light machine gun, but the installed type is generally referred to as a heavy machine gun. I want to put these two high-powered firearms on the front line and add crossfire to them.
“What the hell is that?”
“It’s a weapon that continuously fires hundreds of lead gravel that can kill even heavily armed infantry instantly.”
In a battle like this, where you are up against a large number of enemies, the key to victory or defeat is how many means of overrunning and destroying the enemy from outside their range of attack you can secure. In this regard, the long-range 30-06 is easily within the range of 200 meters or more.
The dwarves were all taken aback by my words as I showed them the bullets and talked about my battle plan.
I’d like to set up machine guns on the ramps leading up to the city in case of emergencies, but we don’t have enough of them at the moment. Machine guns are valuable (mainly because of the cost).
Instead, we have nearly 100 bolt-action M1903 rifles that use the same ammunition. All residents will be able to operate these.
“W-what’s that long one over there?”
“That’s a weapon that fires the same bullets like the one before, one at a time. It has an effective range of about a quarter of a mile, so give it a try.”
“That’s the distance you can aim and hit. If you just need to reach it, it’ll fly more than half a mile.”
This time the elves all twitched at once. For a moment, they were in doubt, but then they were surprised. It’s like being told that the longbow is useless.
I’ll have to follow up later. Well, if I can remember.
“R-really? That’s great. Well, there seems to be only one longer version.”
“I’d like the best eye in the world to be in charge of that one. The impact when it fires is intense, so you need to have a certain amount of muscle strength and physique…”
In my words, one of the elves comes out.
He’s taller than most of the tall and slender elves. He was so muscular that you would think he was mixed with a dwarf. His face was covered with sword wounds, giving him the look of a brave warrior.
Not only the elves and dwarves but even the tiger girl and bear men, who usually have the impression of arrogance, look at the elf with a frightened look.
――He’s an elf, right? He’s got pointed ears, after all.
“Chief of the Casemaian Liberation Army, Kemich the Elf, right? Your other name is Dragonslayer.”
“…Hmph. You want me to have one of your stupid toys? If it satisfies me, I may use it.”
The 14.5 x 114mm round tested from the top of the ravine landed on the shell of an unfortunate giant tortoise that happened to be sunbathing in the middle of the plain. It turned half its body into shattered pieces of flesh. The distance was at least 500 meters.
“Whoaaaa, amazing! You hit it with your first shot! That’s the Dragonslayer for ya! That turtle’s in pieces…!”
The Dragonslayer looked at me with a wry smile as he held up the anti-tank rifle and turned around to check the results with the binoculars that Simon had provided as a service. The surrounding elves, dwarves, and beastman were also completely taken aback.
What is that? Why do you look like that?
“…..Whoever made this is crazy. And probably you too.”
“No, no, no, no, you shot it with the intention of killing it, didn’t you? Is it not allowed to kill it?”
“Oh, you don’t know, Yoshua. That’s not a turtle; that’s a subspecies of dragon called a land-running dragon. They are grassland monsters with ironclad armor that can repel not only swords but also battle hammers and offensive magic. It’s not a matter of okay or no; it’s unkillable. …Usually, though.”
“I’ve killed a low-grade little dragon with inferior attack and defense capabilities, but it still took me half a day!”
No, I don’t know! Why don’t you tell me that before you shoot it!?”
“By the way, the meat tastes really good.”
“I hear it also strengthens the body and increases magic power. It’s not on the market, and even if it were, it would be too expensive for anyone ever to eat it.”
“”””Wow, dragon meat!””””
So, it’s a good thing. Well, it turned out all right.
Anyway, since a huge amount of guns and ammunition were provided, I had all the residents go through shooting training with the aim of becoming a national army. The first step was to learn the safety equipment and safe operation thoroughly.
1: Never put any ammunition in the chamber until just before firing.
2: Never put your finger in the trigger guard until you are ready to shoot.
3: Never point the muzzle of the gun at anyone other than the person you want to kill.
This must be strictly observed.
The beastman got used to the bolt-action M1903 rifle surprisingly quickly. The weight, length, and recoil did not seem to bother these physically strong people. In addition, they have good eyesight and good intuition.
On the other hand, the scopes were not well received. Compared to the naked eye, the unnatural distortion was unpleasant. I had prepared 20 scopes for them… Well, if they can see and hit, they don’t have to use them.
They are genuine hunters, and there is no waste or gap in their movements. They don’t just stand there and shoot; they instinctively move like special forces, hiding and getting down, shooting, and then immediately moving without a sound. By providing them with bayonets, they will be able to deal with enemies who are closing the distance without difficulty.
Good at getting away, even better at getting close. Honestly, I can’t do it. And I don’t want to. The AKM is just right for me, as it can put up a barrage even with crude aiming.
The bayonets for the M1903, which had been sold at a discounted price, came in a variety of lengths and specifications, but the beastman, who had different tastes and physiques and respected individuality, was pleased.
As a side note, do you know what the most popular weapon among beastman is?
Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, it was the shovel. I distributed shovels to the beastman for use in setting traps and building camps, and they were very popular because they were light and strong, easy to use for thrusting and cutting, could be wielded as if they were an extension of their arms and hands, and could even be used to dug.
No, I mean to dig a hole.
“Hey, Yadar, are we missing anything?”
“Right. What about a nice guy?”
“Sorry, they’re all out of stock.”
Yadar, the tiger girl (who reluctantly gave me her name), who almost killed me when we first met, has become somewhat familiar with me. She must have recognized that I was not someone who would harm her people.
It’s funny how her tails are full of emotions, even when she’s sulking or talking hatefully. If I point it out, she’ll get angry, so I keep quiet.
Myrril casually leans in close to me as I look around, giving instructions, guidance, and consultation. It’s not because I’m unreliable that I feel like her movements are more like a guard than a good friend.
“It’s going well. Did you get the warheads for hunting?”
“Oh, 500 rounds.”
It may seem like a lot, but as a percentage of the total ammunition, it’s indeed a valuable item that I finally secured. At any rate, the 30-06 ammunition supplied by Simon this time was about 70,000 rounds, not including those that were belt-linked for heavy machine guns. The cost of the ammunition was higher than expected, and with the addition of this and that equipment, the budget of $300,000 had been exceeded. Simon told me that I owed him for the money, and he hoped that I would pay him back after the war.
Yes, the hunting warhead was so powerful that it was designed for large game.
The amount of ammunition is higher than that of a normal bullet, and the firing energy is higher. In addition, the lead in the core of the bullet is half exposed, so it deforms greatly when it hits the target, spraying all of its kinetic energy into the target’s body.
Although the M1903 is effective even when wearing armor, I want to maximize its effectiveness.
“I’ll give the M1903s to about five people with good marksmanship and have them target mainly the horses of the cavalry.”
“I see; you want to take out the enemy’s legs first.”
“That’s also the idea. If they have no means of transportation, they can’t attack, and they can’t escape.”
Heavy cavalry without horses on a wide plain with a good view is just a target without any protection or bows. It’s not just a matter of slowing down; it’s a matter of losing their advantage.
“I’m not sure why you’re saying “also” other than to take away their legs.”
When Myrril tilted her head, I explained simply.
“No. The priority is to take away the legs. First, the commander’s horse. Next, the first horse that comes charging in.”
Cavalry takes a ridiculous amount of money and time to raise and maintain. Only nobles with wealth and position can practically do it. When they are in danger, the commoner infantrymen are ordered to rescue them or support their retreat. This would reduce the enemy’s effort and strength many times more than a simple kill.
If the front of the charging cavalry falls, collateral damage will occur, and if a large and conspicuous force is destroyed spectacularly, the following forces will see how they died, and fear will spread.
When I turned around with a smug look on my face and said, “Killing two birds with one stone,” I was greeted with a wry smile from Myrril. I don’t know if the idiom is getting through, but it seems to be getting the point across.
“…You’re still the same.”
“Reasonable and concise. It may be effective, but it’s refreshingly outrageous…”
“It can’t be helped. It’s war, after all.”
I tried to say it in the Mitsuo-style, but she would not understand, and Myrril only responded with a smile.
[T/n: I’m not really sure, but probably Mitsuo Aida?]
“I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m impressed. The idea of making the enemy suffer rather than killing them is something we would never have thought of. And I am grateful. I’m really glad you’re here.”
Throughout the conversation, Myrril looked pleased with the situation.
It’s probably not because she’s with me. It was because she had an M1911 copy pistol in a holster on her left shoulder and a UZI, a tough Israeli short machine gun she called “Uji”, hanging on her right shoulder.
Both of them are fully loaded with .45 caliber bullets. After just one shooting experience, it seems that Myrril has become a true believer in the .45, just like the Americans.
“Myrril, don’t you ever practice with your rifle?”
“I don’t need to aim and shoot. If I don’t have enough range, I can get closer to the enemy. Just get as close as you can see them.”
She answered with a big smile on her face.
The UZI is normally chambered for 9mm Parabellum ammunition, but the one Simon had procured was a special order from some other country and had been converted to .45 caliber. I heard that the weight of the gun was not bothering her at all. Rather, she carries it around with her at all times as a sign of her immense trust.
“Hey, Yoshua. Can you please let the dwarves be the shooters (machine gunners) and assistants (ammunition handlers) of this M1919?”
I was stopped by a group of small, bearded old men, who appealed to me with serious eyes.
It seemed that these skilled workers were fascinated by the big machine gun on a tripod. They were fascinated by the elaborate mechanism, but after seeing the power of the gun, they would not let go of it even for a moment. As they fought over it, they maintained and polished it, making it shine so brightly that it was hard to believe it was a hundred years old.
What was even more unexpected was the dwarf’s cheat ability to control the overheating of the barrel. I heard that their innate magic of fire magic, or heat control, can not only give heat to metal but also take it away.
It’s easy (for the dwarves) to adjust the pace of the gun, if not the need to change the barrel.
Oh, the fantasy. It’s also very simple.
“Yeah, sure… but it’s a dangerous role, you know? You’ll be on the front lines, facing tens of thousands of enemies.”
“That’s no problem at all. All four of us are old men on the verge of death. The younger ones will be in the rear guard.”
“…O-oh. …Well, I guess we’ll see. Before that, I’m going to make sure we have a good gun emplacement. It should be sturdy enough to withstand a rain of arrows.”
Simon gave me 5,000 extra rounds of cloth-belted bullets and some bulletproof plates as a service. He said they were additional armor plates for lightly armored vehicles, but they came with a guarantee that even Myrril’s mechanical bow would not be able to penetrate them.
Myrrill, who was supposed to have designed the latest and greatest annihilation weapon, was somewhat shocked, though.
We combined them to make a simple camp. The entrance to the ravine, which had originally been the main obstacle, was closed off with logs, trenches, and barbed wire, and the gun emplacements were placed so that the firing lines crossed from both sides. In other words, a space for annihilation was created.
In addition, even if they were to force their way through, we had created a blocking line at the far end of the ravine. We can’t see them until they are right in front of us, but they are almost impossible to cross by riding. When a certain number of enemies enter the canyon, a death present will rain down from above.
“Hey Myrril, do you know what kind of attack… was subjected to the last time this place fell?”
“I heard that they were overcome by the violence of numbers, tens or hundreds of times. That and the… winged dragon.”
I knew it. There was air support.
So it will be the same this time. We’re going to need to be on anti-aircraft alert. Against a wyvern flying at high speed, a single shot Simonov might be difficult. A long-range, high firepower barrage…
“Umu. That’s where that thing comes in.”
I went back to the front of the church and opened a crate I had kept in the corner. I’ve heard that even when this gun was in service, it was only given to those with good physique and good judgment. Being a gunner was an honorary position, but also a dangerous one, as it made you an easy target.
“What, is it a relative of the Simonov?”
“More of a relative of the M1919 machine gun than the Simonov. It can shoot down a dragon.”
“The elves will take care of that.”
I turned around and saw six elves standing there. Their eyes were fixed on me with determination. They understood that they could no longer win this war with longbows alone. That is why they have no hesitation in abandoning their meaningless pride.
“No, please let us do our part.”
“We also consider ourselves to be top-notch archers; even with the M1903 rifle, we are no match for the rest of our comrades…”
“It is the pride of the Elves to be in the most dangerous places against the most dangerous enemies.”
“We cannot leave that burden to Kemich alone.”
The eyes of the elves were serious as they spoke. On the battlefield, where the longbow has become useless, they were thinking in their own way, searching for what they could do.
“…I see. Then, please.”
I handed them six guns, each with three 20-round mags in a box. Each of them carrying a BAR, they were amazed at the length and weight of their new partner and smiled coolly as they realized the dependability of the strong steel.
“Report, large scale mobilization of troops in the royal capital confirmed.”
“Report, increased influx of what appears to be military supplies.”
“Report, a small detachment of light cavalry that looks like an advance party has set out in several waves.”
When we received a series of urgent reports from the winged tribesmen (bird beastman) who had been keeping a watchful eye on the skies above, we prepared ourselves for what was to come.
There was no one to be afraid of. There was nowhere to run. Either we would win and survive and protect the homeland, or we would die and lose everything.
Strangely enough, my mind was quiet. I felt attached to the people of Casemaian, who were fighting with me.