Chapter 365: Second Generation Modification Potion

The good show Heinrich spoke of naturally referred to the “battle” starting in the practical combat testing area.

There was no pre-battle mobilization, nor any flashy starting stances.

Just like countless similar tests before, these out-of-control “Sentinels” launched an attack on the trenches and bunkers where the Britannian and Gallic wounded soldiers were located in the simulated environment.

“Master Heinrich, if I may be so bold as to ask.”

Morin stood before the observation window, watching those deep blue figures below shoot out like arrows leaving the bowstring, his brows slightly furrowed:

“Is the practical combat test down here always like this… simulating offensive combat and charging?”

The scene below was arranged quite decently, with barbed wire, machine gun bunkers, and even several overlapping trench systems.

Judging from the complexity of the arrangement, this practical combat testing area built underground was obviously not so easy to adjust simulated scenarios in.

And Heinrich’s answer did not exceed Morin’s expectations.

“This is the ‘tactic’ the Gauls want, Lieutenant Colonel.”

Heinrich leaned on his bone staff, a trace of mockery in his tone: “In their ‘Field Manual,’ offense is everything, defense is only to attack better, and retreat is to attack in another direction…”

“This extreme offensive thinking is no longer just on paper, but has deeply influenced the combat logic of the ‘Sentinels’.”

“So since this underground testing ground was built, the only test subject has been this one—attack, attack, and attack again.”

The old mage pointed to the trenches and bunkers in the practical combat testing area: “The simulated scenario is always the enemy’s sturdy defense line, and the ‘Sentinels” mission is to tear the enemy’s defense line to shreds as fast as possible at all costs.”

Hearing this, Morin couldn’t help shaking his head.

Sure enough, even in a different world, the ironheadedness of the Gauls in WWI remained completely unchanged.

So the content of the practical combat test was also simulating the “Sentinels” attacking enemy fortresses.

And who this “enemy” referred to was already very obvious to Morin now.

It was just that when this brainless offensive thinking was paired with the “Sentinels'” physical qualities, it indeed produced a chilling chemical reaction.

The battle below was less a battle and more a one-sided slaughter.

Those heavily wounded and ammunition-depleted Britannian and Gallic garrison soldiers relied on those few crude trenches, trying to organize a final resistance.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Over a dozen rifles and a dilapidated Hotchkiss M1914 heavy machine gun position continuously spewed tongues of fire.

But at this almost point-blank range, the threat of these conventional light weapons to the second-generation “Sentinels” could simply be ignored.

The instruction unit soldiers lay before the observation window, their eyes widened one by one, not even daring to breathe loudly.

They saw with their own eyes a “Sentinel” charging at the very front, facing the machine gun bullets sweeping towards him, actually not dodging or evading.

His body drew an afterimage in his high-speed run, and before that machine gunner could even react, he had already charged right in front of him.

Then came the [Steel Wind Strike] everyone had seen in the Battle of Creil.

No shots fired, nor any spells used.

That “Sentinel” merely swung the saber in his hand simply, bringing up a shrill cold light.

The next second, the five Britannian and Gallic soldiers blocking his way didn’t even have time to scream before they were almost cut in half by the “Sentinel” continuously blinking behind them.

What was even more terrifying was that, whether it was the inherent characteristic of the “Sentinels” or because of their loss of control, they seemed to have completely abandoned the sensation of pain and fear as humans.

Even if occasionally a few bullets hit their non-vital areas, splashing a few blood blossoms, their movements did not pause in the slightest. Instead, they seemed to be stimulated by blood to become even more frenzied.

Screams rose and fell in the trenches.

That Britannian Major who previously tried to shout to Morin was currently waving his empty gun despairingly.

But his resistance was futile.

Two “Sentinels” flanked him from left and right, not even looking at him directly. With a casual swing, the Major’s head flew off, and the headless corpse, spraying a pillar of blood, fell into the muddy trench.

Everyone, including this Britannian Major, fell under the sabers of the “Sentinels”—yes, these out-of-control “Sentinels” didn’t even use the rifles slung on their backs.

And the only Highland Mage in the trench only had time to release a [Wall of Fire] in front of him. The roaring flames formed a semicircular protective ring, guarding him in the middle.

Immediately after, he frantically tore open several spell scrolls, putting a series of defensive or life-saving spells on himself.

If it were ordinary infantry, facing this turtle-shell-like defense, they probably really wouldn’t have any good solutions.

But his opponents were the second-generation “Sentinels” born specifically for killing.

The two “Sentinels” charged to the wall of fire, paused for a mere half a second, then started simultaneously, charging straight in against the wall of fire as if they felt nothing.

In close-quarters combat, a Highland Mage obviously had no advantage.

Although the “Sentinels” were out of control, their combat logic was still retained.

When facing a spellcasting unit, they also adopted corresponding countermeasures.

“Ah!”

The Highland Mage screamed in terror, just about to raise his hand to cast a spell.

But a Sentinel’s speed was faster than his.

“Crack!”

An uppercut from that “Sentinel” hit the Highland Mage’s chin controlled force.

This punch directly dislocated the Highland Mage’s lower jaw, his entire mouth slanting behind the root of his ear. Let alone chanting spells, he couldn’t even let out a scream.

At the same time, the other hand also controlled the Highland Mage’s dominant hand in a flash of lightning, making it impossible for him to cast spells through gestures.

In the Monitoring and Command Center, Morin, seeing this scene relying on farsight and dynamic vision far exceeding ordinary people’s, also couldn’t help nodding.

“F*ck, I learned something…”

Although these “Sentinels” were all enemies, this smooth and flowing “Anti-Mage CQC” was simply a textbook-level model.

Simple, brutal, and highly efficient.

No superfluous movements, every move going straight for the mage’s vitals.

The entire “simulated” battle ended even faster than expected.

In less than three minutes, not a single living person was left standing on the entire simulated battlefield.

Even that Highland Mage who had already been crippled, the “Sentinels” had no intention of keeping alive.

It seemed that for the “Sentinels,” capturing this Highland Mage was just going through the motions.

A “Sentinel” stepped forward, those emotionless eyes under the mask staring at the terrified face of the mage, then the saber in his hand cleanly sliced across his throat.

Then, those “Sentinels” who were just slaughtering like evil ghosts moments ago, after confirming there were no survivors, expressionlessly began to drag the corpses on the ground.

Whether Britannian or Gallic, they dragged them like dead dogs toward a massive door in the corner of the testing area.

Above that door, a line of Gallic text was painted in white:

[Biological Waste Disposal Area]

The instruction unit soldiers couldn’t help but whisper to each other, discussing the course of the battle they had just seen.

They also pondered in their hearts whether they could defeat the enemy relying on their training and firepower if they encountered such an enemy.

On the other side, Master Haber and the Section III intelligence personnel also exchanged glances, then recorded some information about the battle in the notebooks they carried.

Morin looked at Heinrich, asking the other party if such a completely unchallenging combat test could really serve as training for the “Sentinels”?

Heinrich stated that this was merely the “Sentinels” spontaneously mimicking combat training behaviors based on their “underlying logic.”

Actually, in past practical combat tests, a dozen or so “Sentinels” generally had to fight a company-sized unit composed of death row inmates and deserters in this venue the size of a standard football field.

Waiting until the figures of the “Sentinels” disappeared into the door leading to the [Biological Waste Disposal Area], Morin also put away his previously relatively relaxed expression, looking seriously at the Necromancy School mage beside him.

“Alright, Master Heinrich.”

Morin’s voice echoed in the quiet Monitoring Center, carrying a suddenly appearing sense of oppression: “The show is over, and we’ve seen how strong these ‘works’ of yours are.”

“Now, it’s time to talk business.”

“You went to great lengths to let us in, and specifically let us watch this performance. It couldn’t possibly be just to show off your research results to us, right?”

Hearing this, the surrounding instruction unit soldiers immediately tightened their grip on their weapons, their vigilant gazes locking onto Heinrich.

Master Haber and the Section III intelligence personnel also put away their notebooks, looking over with nervous expressions.

The atmosphere in the entire room instantly switched back from the “movie-watching mode” just now to a state of tense confrontation on the verge of breaking out.

However, Heinrich was not frightened by this lineup.

Those cloudy eyes of his lingered on Morin for a moment, seemingly evaluating the weight of this young man.

After quite a while, an elusive smile suddenly bloomed on that wrinkle-filled face of his.

“Talking to smart people saves trouble.”

Heinrich did not show the slightest panic because of the dozens of dark muzzles around him.

He unhurriedly straightened that somewhat dirty mage robe, then leaned his hands on the bone staff, leaning forward slightly, an astute light flashing in those cloudy eyes.

“I want to make a deal with you all, or rather, with the Saxon Empire.”

His voice was very steady, like he was discussing today’s weather, rather than a negotiation concerning life and death.

“A deal?”

“That’s right!”

Heinrich stretched out a withered finger and continued:

“You are responsible for protecting me, taking me safely out of this hellhole, and bringing me back to the Saxon Empire. In exchange…”

Heinrich paused, his gaze sweeping over Master Haber’s shocked face, and finally landing back on Morin.

“I am willing to pledge allegiance to His Majesty the Emperor again, and present all my research results in Gaul over these years, including the core data of the ‘Sentinel Project’, in their entirety.”

Upon hearing these words, the breathing of Master Haber and the Section III intelligence personnel became rapid.

The return of a living top scientist possessing the enemy nation’s highest classified technology—what this meant for the Saxon Empire went without saying.

But Morin didn’t show much excitement, continuing to stare into the other party’s eyes instead.

“Master Heinrich, right now you don’t seem to have many bargaining chips.”

“You are trapped here, outside is a group of out-of-control monsters, inside is a group of fully armed Saxon soldiers… To put it bluntly, your life is currently entirely in our hands.”

“If you make any unusual moves, I wouldn’t mind moving my finger to turn you into a corpse, and then we will search this place top to bottom and take away everything we can.”

Morin’s words were very straightforward, but Heinrich smiled, smiling with somewhat secure backing.

“You can kill me, Lieutenant Colonel.”

He nodded, seemingly not denying this possibility.

“But if you kill me, the Saxon Empire should forever forget about getting the true core results of the ‘Sentinel Project’…”

“Those documents? Those experimental data? Even those half-finished corpses outside?”

Heinrich waved his hand disdainfully:

“Those are merely superficial. Without the knowledge in my brain, without my unique understanding of the entire ‘Sentinel Project,’ even if you got all the materials, you could only build some ‘defective products’ like those guys in other countries.”

“Not to mention…”

He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping over the soldiers listening with pricked ears behind Morin, and finally landing back on Morin’s face, lowering his voice, as if throwing out an irresistible bait.

“Don’t you want to know if there’s a way to let ordinary people possess power like the ‘Sentinels’ without needing to undergo that kind of high-risk human modification surgery?”

Morin had to admit, this sudden sentence from Heinrich indeed piqued his interest.

No surgery needed?

What did this mean?

It meant an extremely low mortality rate, relatively higher universality, and meant… mass production.

However, Morin didn’t show any interest in these words. On the surface, he still maintained that unperturbed expression, even pretending to carelessly clean his ear.

“Are you drawing a pie for me, Master? Just now you said that was something ‘theoretical’.”

“No, it’s not just theory.”

Heinrich seemed to have already guessed Morin’s reaction. He turned around, raised his bone staff, and pointed in another direction.

“To express my sincerity, I can tell you another piece of news.”

“Not far from here, also in Area D, in the [Finished Product Warehouse], three potions are stored.”

“Those are the products of the final stage of the ‘Sentinel Project,’ and also the perfect crystallization just extracted by this underground research institute before those ‘Sentinels’ lost control—the second-generation ‘Sentinel’ modification potion.”

Heinrich’s voice was full of pride, as if those weren’t just three potions, but artworks he had personally carved.

“As long as one injects one tube, and then cooperates with specific magic channeling training, an ordinary person can gain the physical quality and magical affinity of a second-generation ‘Sentinel’ level within a month.”

“Most importantly… it doesn’t have any side effects, nor will it lose control like that garbage outside.”

“This is a true masterpiece, the key capable of changing the form of war.”

Hearing this, even the usually steady Master Haber’s breathing became rapid.

No surgery needed, no side effects, and can also gain that kind of combat power…

If this is true, the value of these three potions is simply inestimable!

Morin also finally began to think seriously. If Heinrich wasn’t bluffing, then the importance of this potion needed no further words.

Even if only a squad-level of “super soldiers” could be produced in the short term.

Paired with modern tactics and equipment, this squad would become a highly important tactical unit on the battlefield.

“Only three?” Morin forcefully suppressed the burning passion in his heart and pressed.

“Yes, only three.”

Heinrich sighed, a trace of regret appearing on his face.

“Because this is the first batch of potions, whether it’s the process or other aspects, it’s not mature enough, and the yield rate is not considered high… You cannot imagine the price the Gauls paid to extract these potions.”

“There were originally five, but two were consumed in the final stability tests… These remaining three are the only surviving unique items in this world.”

“However…”

The old mage changed the subject, the look in his eyes staring at Morin becoming meaningful:

“As long as I can return to Saxony, as long as the Empire can provide sufficient resources… I can rebuild the production line. Although the output might be very low, it will be more than these three.”

As soon as Heinrich finished speaking, Master Haber, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke.

He pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose, stared sharply at Heinrich, and asked a key question.

“Since this potion is so precious, since your research results are so important to the Gauls…”

Master Haber’s voice was exceptionally clear in the quiet room, “Why didn’t they take you with them when they evacuated? Nor take these core data and potions?”

“According to common sense, core personnel of your level should have been among the first batch to evacuate to Bordeaux in the south.”

As soon as this question was asked, the atmosphere in the Monitoring Center instantly became somewhat strange.

Everyone reacted.

Right, since this old man is the General Director, how could he be left here to fend for himself?

Could the Gauls really be stupid enough to abandon even this kind of strategic asset?

Or could it be that there’s some other hidden story in this?

Everyone’s gazes focused on Heinrich again, waiting for his explanation.

Facing everyone’s questioning, the expression on Heinrich’s face became somewhat spectacular.

It was a mix of anger, helplessness, and a trace of… embarrassment?

He opened his mouth, seemingly finding it somewhat hard to speak.

But under Morin’s probing gaze, he ultimately let out a long sigh, the bone staff in his hand pounding heavily on the ground.

“Do you think I didn’t want to leave?”

Heinrich said through gritted teeth:

“The evacuation plan for this underground research institute was formulated long before the Battle of Amiens even began, and it was a top-priority plan!”

“But…”

Heinrich took a deep breath, as if to spit out all the resentment accumulated in his chest for a long time.

“But the advance speed of the Saxon Army after the outbreak of the war completely exceeded the imagination of the Gallic military!”

The old mage glared, his voice subconsciously raising a few pitches:

“According to the wargames of the Gallic Army General Staff, from the breakthrough of the Britannian Expeditionary Force at the Amiens defense line to the Saxon army arriving at the gates of Paris, it would take at least one to two months!”

“Such a long time was enough for us to calmly pack up all equipment, take all data, and evacuate to Bordeaux on a special train!”

“But the result?” Heinrich waved his arms, as if accusing the unfairness of fate, “The Britannian Expeditionary Force was simply like a bunch of trash, retreating again and again!”

“The vanguard of the Saxon Army arrived in Creil before long!”

“And even this defense line, which gathered the last effective forces of the Paris Military Region, failed to stop you for long! Even on the afternoon the defense line was broken, artillery shells were already smashing down outside the city of Paris!”

Speaking of this, Heinrich was so angry his beard was trembling: “When we received the emergency evacuation order, we didn’t even have time to finish sorting the data!”

Following Heinrich’s accusation, the atmosphere in the Monitoring Center became somewhat subtle.

Master Haber subconsciously turned his head and looked at Morin beside him.

Those few Section III intelligence personnel also looked sideways, staring at this young Lieutenant Colonel with complex eyes.

As for those instruction unit soldiers responsible for security around them, each of them puffed up their chests, their faces revealing unconcealable pride and glory.

The Battle of Amiens… the Battle of Creil…

This series of “mad-dog-style” rapid advances that caught the Gauls off guard and even led to the collapse of the entire battle situation, their instruction unit could indeed claim:

“That’s right, we did it~”

And after Heinrich complained for a long time, he suddenly noticed that the people around were all looking at that young Lieutenant Colonel in front of him with strange eyes.

As a spellcaster, his mind leaped very fast. Just after being stunned for a moment, an absurd thought suddenly flashed through his mind.

“Wait…”

The old mage narrowed his eyes, sizing Morin up and down.

“Lieutenant Colonel, you said before that you encountered the first-generation ‘Sentinels’ on the Creil battlefield…”

“And the equipment and tactical literacy of this unit of yours…”

Morin touched his lips somewhat embarrassedly, a “shy” smile appearing on his face.

“Hehe…”

Heinrich opened his mouth wide, unable to speak for a long time.

He looked at this “innocent-looking” young man before him with complex feelings.

So it turns out the culprit who screwed him over and trapped him in this hellhole unable to get out is now standing right in front of him, and still wants to negotiate a deal with him?

What is this? Some kind of bullshit black comedy?

“Ahem… ahem…” Morin coughed lightly twice, breaking the awkward silence, “Um… Master Heinrich, although our advance speed was a bit fast, you can’t blame it all on me, right? After all, in war, speed is everything.”

“Furthermore…”

Morin changed the subject, catching another loophole in Heinrich’s words:

“Even if we advanced fast, since it was a top-priority evacuation plan, the Gauls must have reserved an emergency passage for you, right? What about the train?”

Mentioning the train, Heinrich’s anger, which had originally calmed down slightly, instantly erupted again like a volcano.

This time, his anger was no longer directed at the Saxons, but at the Gauls.

“Train? Hmph! Don’t mention those damn trains!”

The old mage’s face was so gloomy it could drip water, his eyes full of disdain and mockery.

“Originally there were indeed a few special trains, parked at the hidden platform of the underground research institute connecting to the railway network, on standby at all times.”

“But on the very night we were preparing to load the key data in advance, that train… disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Master Haber was stunned, “How could a train disappear out of thin air?”

“Because they were temporarily commandeered…”

Heinrich said through gritted teeth:

“Commandeered by the Prime Minister, who had just publicly declared the day before that he would abide by the constitution and stay in Paris, and by those senior government officials fleeing Paris in panic!”

“In order to transport away their families, mistresses, and those gold, silver, and soft valuables moved out from their mansions, they directly hijacked the evacuation special train that originally belonged to us!”

“When we finally managed to contact the dispatch center with great difficulty, that train loaded with politicians had long since run out of Paris!”

“Hahahaha… I’m sorry, I’m professionally trained, I generally don’t laugh…”

Heinrich: “…”

Morin really couldn’t hold it back and laughed out loud inappropriately.

This plot was simply too f*cking magic realism.

On one side is a strategic-level scientific research project concerning the country’s future, and on the other side are politicians greedy for life and afraid of death, and their valuables.

What is this called? This is called “My great Gaul has its own national conditions here.”

“So, you were left behind?” Morin shook his head while laughing, “Then seeing this, the Gallic Republic losing isn’t unjust.”

Heinrich looked coldly at the laughing Morin and didn’t refute.

As a person betrayed by a country twice—once by Saxony, once by Gaul—he had long seen through this kind of corruption and ugliness within the system.

“Now you understand, right?”

Heinrich took a deep breath and recovered his calm.

“This rotting country simply doesn’t deserve my technology.”

“Since they could abandon the ‘Sentinel Project’ for a few boxes of gold bars, then don’t blame me for selling it to those who can afford the price.”