Chapter 281: Consecration and Demolition

The speed at which undead creatures appeared in Paris exceeded everyone’s imagination.

If Morin were to describe a more concrete manifestation… it would be that the system map initially displayed dense red dots, but when he re-entered Paris, there were no red dots on the system map; it was directly a sea of red.

His mind no longer felt the previous heat, and the system map no longer lagged.

At this moment, after Manstein and Kleist had taken the 3rd and 4th companies, respectively, to “fight fires,” Morin, following General Mackensen’s orders, was commanding the 1st and 2nd companies of the Instruction Assault Battalion directly towards the 14th Arrondissement of Paris.

Their mission was to find the exits connecting the Paris Catacombs to the outside world, guided by clergy more familiar with the city, and then seal them permanently with explosives.

In the lead vehicle of the convoy, Morin, Klaus, and others were squeezed into a row, their expressions serious.

Opposite them sat several clerics dressed in classical armor, holding swords, holy emblems, and also propping up a Berthier M1892 rifle.

Sitting in the middle was Archbishop Maurice. This elder, over sixty years old like General Mackensen, was not only fully armored but also held a war hammer that noticeably caused the vehicle to sink when he got in.

Since everyone was quite nervous, and Klaus and his fellow Saxon countrymen didn’t understand Gaulish, no one spoke.

To alleviate the awkward atmosphere, Morin proactively conversed with Archbishop Maurice in Gaulish.

“Your Excellency, Archbishop, you really don’t need to carry such a heavy hammer and come personally. We will retreat after we’ve figured out how to place the explosives!”

Upon hearing Morin’s words, Archbishop Maurice rarely showed a kind smile, just like a helpful old man next door.

“Thank you for your concern, Captain Morin…”

The Archbishop nodded to Morin, then lifted the war hammer in his hand and said, “Actually, this is a crozier, not a war hammer. But please rest assured, Captain, we are professionals and can protect ourselves.”

“6”

Morin opened his mouth, momentarily speechless.

So it was a crozier…

Anyone who didn’t know would have thought it was a long-handled war hammer that stood half a person tall when placed on the ground, with a hammerhead as big as half his head, and even a pickaxe for armor penetration… During the previous task assignment, Morin and Maurice had exchanged information about their respective combat strengths.

He also learned that there were no true Papal spellcasters within Notre-Dame de Paris, as this was the capital of the Gallic Republic, and the Gauls would never agree to allow Papal spellcasters to be stationed there.

Therefore, all the clergy of Notre-Dame de Paris, including Archbishop Maurice, were ordinary people and did not possess the ‘divine arts’ of Papal legend.

However, on weekdays, the priests, deacons, acolytes, and even some nuns within Notre-Dame de Paris would train their physiques under the guidance of Maurice and the auxiliary bishop… This is why these clerics, despite wearing armor, moved with such agility.

14th Arrondissement of Paris, Denfert-Rochereau Square.

Speaking of which, this square actually has a small connection with the Saxon Empire.

Because it commemorates Colonel Denfert-Rochereau, the Gaulish commanding officer of the Siege of Belfort during the Saxo-Gallic War.

It was due to this colonel’s skillful command, repelling multiple Saxon attacks, that the Battle of Belfort inspired the morale of other Gaulish regions to resist the Saxons.

However, two months later, the Gauls still signed their name to the Treaty of Frankfurt, ceding Alsace-Lorraine and the southern Mediterranean outlet.

And now, this commemorative square is also the location of the main entrance to the Paris Catacombs.

When the dozen or so Radiant Crystal Vehicles carrying Morin and his men roared into the square, everyone was speechless at the sight before them.

“My God…” a young Instruction Assault Battalion soldier murmured, lost in thought.

The entire square had completely transformed into a gray-black ocean.

Endless skeletons continuously poured out from the catacomb entrance, which resembled the maw of a giant beast, then converged into a terrifying torrent, spreading in all directions.

As for the statue of the Lion of Belfort in the center of the square, symbolizing the Gaulish people’s spirit of defending freedom, fighting with all their might, and remaining unyielding… its base was completely submerged by skeletons, with only the upper half of the lion exposed, as if letting out roars and struggling in the sea of skeletons.

The air was filled with a thick, nauseating stench of decay and negative energy, making every living person feel tightness in their chest and difficulty breathing.

The term “sea of skeletons” was vividly materialized at this moment.

“Everyone! Disembark! Prepare for battle!”

Morin was the first to jump off the truck, simultaneously disengaging the safety of the MG14 light machine gun slung across his back.

“Each platoon will act according to the following division of labor!”

“Machine gun teams establish firing points on the trucks! Suppress the front!”

“Grenadiers and flamethrower teams, prepare to clear a path for the main force with your grenades and flamethrowers!”

“Engineer teams await orders. Once the main force clears the path, immediately proceed to the designated locations to set explosives!”

With Morin’s successive commands, the 1st Company he brought quickly deployed into combat formation.

As for the 2nd Company, it established a defensive line at the next intersection behind them to prevent any flanking by undead creatures.

The MG14 light machine guns were quickly mounted on the truck roofs and beds, their dark muzzles aimed at the surging bone sea ahead.

“Da-da-da-da-da!”

Blazing tongues of fire spewed forth, and a rain of bullets instantly tore open three gaps in the sea of skeletons.

Sensing the presence of the living, the undead army in the square immediately changed direction, charging towards Morin’s convoy like sharks smelling blood.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

The tall grenadiers threw out the numerous grenades hanging on them—although all Instruction Assault Battalion soldiers carried grenades, Morin still retained the grenadier specialization.

Those soldiers with long arm spans and a knack for throwing grenades carried a greater number of them.

One by one, the “little black darlings” continuously exploded among the skeleton hordes, blowing the surrounding skeletons to pieces.

But this small loss was merely a drop in the bucket for the entire sea of skeletons.

More skeletons trampled over the remains of their comrades, accelerating their charge towards them.

“Flamethrower team! Quick, quick, quick!”

After emptying a magazine and still seeing dense skeletons before him, Morin roared and waved his hand.

The four flamethrower teams behind him immediately moved past him, lining up and aiming their flamethrower nozzles forward.

Meanwhile, the armed priests led by Archbishop Maurice all pulled out small jars from their personal leather satchels.

They then smeared the paste-like holy oil onto the nozzles and barrels of the flamethrowers.

Even though they had communicated beforehand, seeing this scene now, Morin couldn’t help but ask Maurice,

“Your Excellency, Archbishop, are you sure just smearing it on the nozzle is enough? Do you really not need to mix it into the fuel?”

“Yes, Captain Morin, this will suffice.”

Archbishop Maurice nodded, then walked over and smeared a glob of paste-like holy oil onto the feed port and the still-hot muzzle of Morin’s light machine gun.

“Your Excellency, Archbishop, be careful not to get burned!”

“It’s fine, Amen…”

Maurice made the sign of the cross over Morin, muttering incantations as if buffing him.

The other priests, after performing similar actions, picked up their weapons again and stood to the side.

After confirming they could attack, the flamethrower team’s lead sergeant—a devout Catholic—let out an extremely chuunibyou roar: “Let the flames purify everything! Amen!”

Four nearly white fire dragons, enhanced by the holy oil, suddenly spewed from the flamethrower muzzles, instantly covering a fan-shaped area with a radius of about twenty meters in front.

“Whoosh—”

Once ignited, the special fuel made of Radiant Crystal compounds would adhere to any object, burning continuously.

Coupled with the enhancement of the holy oil, the hundreds of skeletons at the very front were instantly engulfed by the white sea of fire.

Although these undead creatures could ignore pain, their bones, buried underground for one or two hundred years, could not withstand temperatures of over a thousand degrees.

Under the scorching flames, the pale bones began to blacken, become brittle, then emit crackling sounds, eventually turning into a pile of charred powder.

Holy oil + fire is always the most effective weapon for purifying the undead.

“Attack effective!”

Seeing the gratifying effect of the flamethrowers, Morin, somewhat excited, continued to issue orders.

“Maintain rhythm, provide covering fire alternately, and advance!”

With the flamethrowers clearing the way, the Saxon soldiers, enduring the onslaught of the sea of skeletons, began to advance step by step, with difficulty, towards the catacomb entrance in the center of the square.

Archbishop Maurice and the fully armed priests and deacons he brought guarded the flanks of the team.

These clerics, who were neither spellcasters nor wielded divine arts, now displayed astonishing combat power—or rather, a special effectiveness against undead creatures.

The seemingly unadorned flails and war hammers… excuse me, croziers, in their hands were swung with formidable force.

Each strike from these blessed weapons carried a faint, holy white light.

Any approaching skeleton brushed by their weapons, regardless of the force of the attack, would immediately show charred black marks on its bones, and its entire body would begin to slow down.

Those struck head-on would instantly explode into a cloud of bone dust.

“Captain Morin!”

Archbishop Maurice, while swinging his “crozier” and smashing a skeleton attempting a sneak attack into pieces, shouted at Morin.

“We must blow up that entrance as soon as possible! I can feel the negative energy underground becoming more active!”

“I understand!”

Morin looked back at the demolition experts, who were holding submachine guns in one hand, firing bursts, and carrying satchels of explosives in the other.

“Demolition team! Keep up!”