In June, after two months of intensive preparations, Paul Greiman officially issued the army orders to retake Franklin Harbor.
At this point, the Alarda Territory Guard already had two full-strength, fully organized battalions, with more than 1,100 officers and soldiers in total. Thanks to Herman and the others' tireless efforts, besides traditional cold weapons such as swords and spears, they were also equipped with twenty Matchlock Guns and two 4-Pound Cannons.
Outside Franklin Harbor, the count raised his Monocular Telescope and observed the pirates' Defensive Fortifications from afar. He had commissioned an optician from elsewhere to make this telescope, then quickly equipped the army with it. The officers had nothing but praise for this tool that allowed them to observe the enemy from a distance. Naturally, he had also "kept" the optician on with a high salary.
By then, the pirates had reinforced Franklin Harbor's walls. Calling them walls was a stretch—they were merely low earthen embankments compared to a large city like Crystal Radiance. Still, there were plenty of defensive weapons atop them. From a distance, they could see large pots set up on the walls, boiling something that was either scalding hot oil or foul-smelling feces. The pirates had already noticed the army gathering outside the city and had lit the fires in advance.
Not far from the walls, they had dug a trench deeper than a man was tall. Between the trench and the walls lay a dense scattering of Caltrops, Ground Spikes, and other vicious contraptions.
Schroeder lowered the telescope and suggested, "Attack the main gate directly. We have cannons; a few shots will blow that wooden gate apart. Then, under cover from the Matchlock Guns and cannons, fill in the trench in front of the gate, and we can charge straight in."
Paul nodded in agreement.
That afternoon, the two cannons took aim at Franklin Harbor's gate from a distance, and the battle began.
"Load... Aim..." Following the cannon commander's repeated orders, the gunners operated the cannons in an orderly fashion. They had trained continuously for nearly two months for this real battle, and every movement had become instinctive.
"Fire!" the cannon commander roared. The gunner responsible for firing ignited the powder in the touchhole.
"Boom!"
Amid the tremendous roar, the solid four-pound iron cannonballs, carrying immense kinetic energy, shot from the barrels at 416 meters per second. In almost the blink of an eye, they slammed into Franklin Harbor's walls.
The pirates on the walls only saw white smoke rise from the two strange objects in the distance. After two successive explosions, they suddenly felt the walls shake. Although the shots had missed the gate, their power still sent a tremendous shock through the pirates, and terrified cries rang out from the walls.
"A ballista—one with a simpler structure but far greater power," the pirate chief Shark quickly concluded. He immediately ordered his men not to cluster together, lest a single cannonball wipe them all out.
"Reset... Adjust the elevation!"
The gunners made a slight adjustment and quickly fired a second volley.
The second volley still missed the gate, but it shattered part of the wall. One cannonball pierced the parapet and blasted an unlucky pirate off the wall, killing him instantly. Fragments of masonry also left his companions nearby severely wounded.
Painful groans rang out from the walls. Shark immediately ordered the two men carried away so they would not affect morale.
By then, however, morale had nearly collapsed. After witnessing the power of the "ballista," the pirates all huddled down and trembled in fear.
Amid the tremendous crash of splintering wood, the fifth volley finally struck the gate. The wooden gate was blasted to pieces. The pirates lying in ambush on both sides of the gate were scared witless. By then, the booming cannon fire in their hearts was no different from thunderbolts cast down by the gods.
"Matchlock gunners, advance!"
Under the protection of the shield bearers, the Alarda Army's Matchlock Gunners began slowly advancing toward the walls.
"Archers, prepare! The enemy is going to attack the city! Keep a close eye on the brothers at the gate."
Seeing the Matchlock Gunners advance, Shark issued one order after another. He knew the enemy was about to begin its assault.
The pirates armed with bows poked half their bodies over the wall, searching for targets approaching the trench.
But the "siege troops" they expected stopped more than a hundred meters from the walls. At that distance, their inferior bows could not inflict any effective damage, especially with the enemy protected by shields.
A sound like beans frying rang out as all twenty Matchlock Guns fired at once. Four pirates were hit immediately; they clutched their wounds and collapsed against the wall, screaming.
"Get down! Get down!" "It's the legendary black magic!" A wave of panicked shouts rose from the walls.
So it's that sinister weapon from the legends. It can actually shoot this far. Shark was secretly alarmed. Why hasn't the enemy's ranged attack stopped yet? He had assumed they would fill in the trench and attack the walls next.
That was exactly what happened. While the pirates on the walls were lying down to avoid the gunfire, soldiers carrying sacks of earth quickly ran to the area near the trench directly in front of the gate and began throwing the soil in.
If they did not stop them now, it would be too late. Shark could no longer hesitate and shouted, "Archers, attack!"
However, no one obeyed him. Every archer remained crouched behind the parapet, unwilling to stand.
Shark flew into a rage. "Are you all deaf?"
One of his men said miserably, "Boss, surrender! We can't win."
Shark gave two cold laughs. "Heh heh! Someone finally said it out loud."
He then widened his bloodshot eyes and shouted at his men, "Greiman's old man is in our hands. What do you think will happen to us after we surrender? Do you know what happens when people like us harm a noble?" His voice was utterly crazed.
Horrifying scenes surfaced one after another in the minds of the pirates.
In this harsh age, when commoners harmed nobles, the outcome depended entirely on a single word from the noble. It was true that a few nobles who forgave criminals became the subject of stories praising their magnanimity, but far more often, severe punishment was inflicted. Cutting off their hands and feet was considered light. Being executed outright was extremely common, while even more terrifying were being tortured to death or left worse off than dead. Once, a lord had dealt with an assassin by driving a sharpened piece of wood into the victim's anus, standing it upright in the ground, and letting the victim slowly slide down it until he finally died screaming in endless agony.
They treated commoners this way; how much worse would it be for pirates whose hands were already stained with blood? Everyone shuddered involuntarily.
"Let's fight that noble brat to the death!"
Under the pressure of fear, the pirates' bloodlust was roused. They shouted one after another that they would fight Paul Greiman to the bitter end.
But being pinned against the walls and beaten was no solution. The trench was nearly filled, and the enemy would soon charge in. Shark ordered his lackeys down from the walls to engage the enemy in close combat.
As the pirates noisily moved down from the walls, Shark called over a trusted subordinate and quietly gave him a few instructions.
Once again, the cannon's terrifying roar rang out. A cannonball bored into the gate passage and immediately carved a bloody path through those ahead. The pirates gathered at the gate ignored their companions lying on the ground and groaning, scattering in panic to both sides of the entrance.
The Alarda Army launched its assault at precisely that moment. Four Infantry Companies crossed the trench one after another over the sandbags and burst into the city. They quickly spread out, engaging the pirates hiding on both sides of the gate in close combat with their spears. For a time, murderous cries rang out through the streets around the gate.
The Matchlock Gunners charged into the city right behind them. With the enemy held back by the spearmen, they stood safely behind the front line and fired at will. At such close range, they could hit practically anything they aimed at. As clouds of smoke rose and the guns went bang, bang, one pirate after another fell to the bullets.
"Lay down your weapons and you won't be killed! Lay down your weapons and you won't be killed!"
A cavalryman charged into the city and conveyed the count's latest order to the pirates, who had already been split up and surrounded in several groups.
"We surrender!"
The moment they heard they would be spared, some of the pirates who had been overflowing with bloodlust only moments before threw down their weapons and knelt in surrender. Once one man took the lead, the pirates around him followed suit, afraid of falling behind the others. Whether the count would settle accounts later did not matter—they would take the gamble first.
Within a few minutes, every pirate in the area around the gate had surrendered.
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