Thick dark clouds obscured the moon, and Old Dunling looked particularly dark tonight. Tall buildings rose up in groups, and against the backdrop of the faint light, they looked like a huge, twisted and hideous forest.
The Zeppelin airship was still cruising above the night sky, its bright lights shining down, but it was unwilling to share any of its light with the downtown area. It was so dark here, so deep that almost nothing could be seen.
There is martial law tonight, and all intersections leading to the lower city are strictly guarded, but the guards there are not mounted police, but armed Royal Guards. No one knows when they arrived, and when they realize it, they are already there.
The iron boots pounded on the wet ground, and the cold iron sound echoed in the deserted alley.
The soldiers wore red cloaks and were equipped with the new "Dragon Roar" rifle from the Mechanical Institute. It was a heavy artillery described as a rifle. Every time it fired, it would create a three-foot-long flame at the muzzle. Then, with a dragon-roaring roar, the heavy bullet would be fired at high speed, penetrating the enemy along with the deck in front of them. This weapon was originally conceived for attacking strongholds, and the stone brick bunkers were vulnerable to its volleys.
The iron whistle was held in the mouth, and from time to time in the dark night, a crow-like whistle sounded, as if it came from the messenger of death.
"They're not going to go into downtown, are they?"
Shrike sneezed and asked. It's lonely up there. This place is on a high platform. It's disguised as a steam tower, but in fact it's Shrike's watchtower. From here, the commander can see everything on the battlefield and give orders.
Despite the surging hot steam, Shrike still felt cold and wrapped his clothes tightly.
"They are responsible for the blockade. Under the dragon's roar, no one can leave the lower city before dawn."
There are many things that cannot be made public tonight, even by the Royal Guards.
Galahad looked at the place where the light was flickering in the darkness and spoke lightly, his eyes were calm and cautious, as he always was.
"What if there are too many enemies? Can they hold on under the attack of so many monsters?" Shrike was a little worried. The lower city area was next to the outer city area, and the so-called hell and heaven were extremely close.
"This is Old Dunling. We cannot let any demon go, or even let them leave the underground palace."
Galahad knew very well what would happen tonight. Not far in front of them was a ruined building, but both of them knew that the blissful feast was taking place beneath the surface. The people there were intoxicated with revelry, but they had no idea that death was just outside the door.
"Now is the age of steam. The roar of gunfire is enough to destroy any enemy. Do you remember those winged cavalrymen who still linger on the old days? They roamed the continent, flexibly changing their armor. They could be heavy cavalry or light cavalry. They had wings behind them, and when they charged, they were like angels descending to the earth."
Galahad said this with disdain, sneering at the old times.
"But in the end, all they could do was to be buried with the old times. Solid armor was nothing in front of black gunpowder. The last winged cavalry was killed by artillery on the way to the charge. Only their commander rushed to the high platform, but he was alone, and the outcome of the battle was decided."
"Shrike, this is the dawn of a new era. The once heavily armored Winged Hussars have all fallen in our hands. What's more, those demons are relics of the old era and should die a peaceful death."