On July 5th, Rapids City was still enduring arduous battles.

In Jinhe Town, at a harbor twelve miles northeast of Black Mountain, dozens of cargo ships queued along the narrow temporary dock.

Elders on small rafts maneuvered between tall sailing ships, cursing profusely, directing cargo ships to make way or proceed quickly.

In the shallow waters beside the bay, several small rafts salvaged floating and submerged boxes, with two collided, tilting merchant ships nearby.

On the hills to the west of the harbor, nearly a hundred drenched Imperial Guard monks gathered around bonfires, drying clothes and socks reeking of sweat and foul odors.

The stench carried by the humid hot wind forced every Defensive Army personnel moving supplies at the dock to cover their noses with handkerchiefs.

Even Horn couldn't help but pinch his nose.

This place was originally a smuggling dock for the Secret Faction, disguised as a small fishing village.

Horn stood beside the cellar, clearly watching the Defensive Army carrying out boxes of illicit alchemical concoctions and materials, blatantly selling them beside the docks.

They merely needed to pay the Saint Father's Association to acquire a stamp certifying them as items favored by the Saint's Grandson, so they wouldn't count as contraband, having been blessed.

Merchants colloquially called these alchemical items "baptism goods."

As for who originally owned these contraband items, Horn didn't bother to find out; if asked, he'd simply say they were confiscated.

"Your Grace, the Third Guard Corps has also disembarked." Todd, the corps commander of the Third Guard Corps, approached, saluting Horn with his helmet raised.

"Alright, let your corps follow the Black Hat Fifth Corps Commander Brune and head to the designated camp area to set up." Horn turned his head and waved at Brune, who stood woodenly aside, "Big guy, take him there."

In the previous Monkulus battle, due to Legion Commander Mormul's poor command, he was demoted to Deputy Corps Commander, and the Legion Commander position was handed to Brune of the Sacred Heart.

"Once the entire corps is in place, the Deputy Corps Commander will oversee the setup, and the official Corps Commander will directly attend the meeting in the central army camp."

"Yes, Your Grace."

After ensuring the camp arrangement was correct, Horn finally got a chance to rest but remembered Mormul's earlier request.

He took out a list from his pocket, instructing his men to select items from the dock's "baptism goods" according to the list, then rode his horse towards the wizards' camp.

It was only four or five hundred meters from the harbor to the camp, and Horn arrived in just over three minutes.

As soon as he dismounted, carrying a box full of alchemical materials, he saw Mormul fixing a fireball crossbow, who put down his hammer and jogged over.

Standing half a meter from Horn, Mormul's eyes shone fervently.

Horn found Mormul's heated gaze unnerving: "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Nothing, nothing." Although he said that, Mormul didn't hide his intense gaze.

It wasn't that he had any designs on Horn but rather, he had never seen such a rare male witch and naturally had to look more.

Over the past few days of observation, Mormul gradually understood everything about the Salvation Army.

All that talk about the Saint Father's Association and Miseria's heretical natural divine art? It was nothing but a cloaked wizard legion!

The term Blessed made some sense to ordinary people ignorant of the magic system.

But to Mormul, who was acquainted with the Extraordinary, it was utterly nonsensical.

The witch disease, the mana, the alchemy—Mormul could instantly identify them as purely wizard-related.

However, as he got closer to the Blessed and the clockwork rifles, he began to doubt.

A witch disease almost without any mutations or deadly symptoms, possessing immense mana yet lacking spells, and shockingly numerous.

He remembered the Secret Party Celestial Maiden City gathering ten years ago, where each Secret Faction reported wizard numbers as per tradition.

The result showed that in the densest Secret Faction area, Black Snake Bay, the total number of Secret Party wizards barely exceeded ten thousand.

Even counting those outside the Secret Faction system, they likely numbered less than fifteen thousand.

Yet this camp alone had nearly two thousand "wizards!"

The most terrifying part? There were thousands more wizards in Joan of Arc Castle and Autumn Dusk Island.

A mere Langsande County managed to assemble nearly one-fifth the number of the entire Black Snake Bay wizard legion.

This figure kept increasing; he personally witnessed the Imperial Guard adding over thirty more just two days ago.

And all within half a year's time.

What Ruo'an Faction failed to achieve, this male witch managed to accomplish.

If these wizards' descendants could inherit this vast mana, even if halved, wizard numbers could double in ten years.

Mormul finally understood why Ruo'an Faction and White Mountain Hermitage were keen on concealing Horn's true situation, even deploying Master Patrick for personal protection.

Were it not for Red Copper Fortress being locked down, he would've carried Horn to Black Snake Bay to protect him to death.

Initially wanting to personally hand the box of alchemical materials to Mormul, Horn reconsidered due to Mormul's earlier gaze, instructing his nearby guards to assist instead.

"What do you need these things for?"

"We have some inherited gadgets." Squatting down, Mormul opened the box, browsing through the alchemical materials, "They're perfect for creating alchemical tools to enhance the Fireball Technique."

"Oh, is that so." Horn responded indifferently.

Since discovering the Fireball Technique wasn't as powerful as anticipated, he'd been indifferent towards it.

Even with magic staffs mounted on small catapults, they couldn't shoot far, as fast speeds increased wind pressure, dispersing the fireballs.

Following Mormul's advice, Horn built a small catapult modeled after a Black Snake Bay fireball crossbow, barely extending its range to 150 meters.

But compared to manual throwing, the fireball crossbow's accuracy was far too low.

Reluctantly, Horn summoned White Mountain Hermitage's astrologers for on-site divination, barely improving accuracy and deviation.

At most, eight fireballs could be fired; the lengthy time required for astrology could be forgiven.

He glanced at the two-meter-wide catapult, unwilling to call such a crude contraption wizard cannon.

Until the Red Dragon's Breath formula was acquired, his concept of a wizard cannon remained fantasy.

150 meters and 1500 meters range—even if identical in power, they represented vastly different concepts.

"Ah, and there's one more thing I'd like to trouble you with." Just as Horn turned to leave, Mormul stood up, calling out to him.

"What is it?"

"Could you allocate some alchemists... I mean Holy Mechanic Priests, to help me create some Holy Artifacts?"

"Of course, some Holy Mechanic Priests and Blessed will seek you after dinner."

Having confirmed the fireball crossbow team's status, Horn checked the time and swiftly rode towards the camp.

He arrived just as the last corps commander, Rudilo, lifted the curtain and entered the canvas tent.

Following Rudilo inside, he saw six Black Hat Corps Commanders and two Guard Corps Commanders seated around a round table.

Apart from the second and fourth Guard preserving Joan of Arc Castle, the Salvation Army was well and truly dispatched.

Horn sat promptly at the head, spreading out a map without much chatter, immediately saying: "Master Patrick sent word; you all roughly understand the situation."

He picked up the ceramic cup on the table, placing it on the map north of Black Mountain: "Here is Black Mountain Castle."

Tracing his index finger across the crude depiction of Black Mountain on the map, Horn raised his head: "The Sand Sculpture Knight is estimated to arrive at Black Mountain Castle north of Black Mountain in three days, and what we need to do..."

He forcefully marked the southwest of Black Mountain with the ink bottle, standing up straight: "Is, right here, to completely annihilate Sand Sculpture Knight Nidesar and his main force."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.