The Returned Lord Is a Genius of Gun Law - Chapter 27
chapter 27
The Island of Explosions
The Returning Lord: GUN Law Genius – Episode 27
Episode 27
Boom!
The explosion engulfed the river in a flash of light.
Eugene watched the scene from behind the embankment, lying flat.
Black smoke billowed upward, and earth and stone flew into the sky as Bolton’s vanguard troops were swept away by the blast.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The detonated C4 charges and landmines exploded in a chain reaction, sweeping through the soldiers.
“Aaaah!”
“Help me!”
Amidst the screams, Eugene observed the scene with a blank expression.
Emotion was unnecessary.
All that was needed now was cold, rational judgment.
The formation has collapsed.
Bolton’s once-orderly army plunged into chaos in an instant.
Soldiers scattered in all directions to escape the explosions, while the following troops came to a halt, blocked by the chaos ahead.
It was an opportunity.
Now’s the time.
Yujin raised his hand.
“Open fire!”
The moment Yujin’s command rang out,
Tatata-tang! Tatatang! Tatatang!
Gunfire erupted simultaneously from both sides of the embankment.
140 soldiers, AK-47s in hand, unleashed a hail of bullets into the riverbed.
Crossfire.
The bullets, pouring in from left and right, rained down on the Bolton soldiers trapped in the river.
“Ugh!”
“Shields! Raise the shields!”
The Bolton soldiers raised their shields, but they were no match for the dual onslaught of bullets.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Blind rounds, piercing the gaps between shields and armor, found their mark. One by one, the soldiers fell.
“Keep firing! Don’t hold back—empty your magazines!”
As Jerome’s command echoed across the battlefield, Yujin observed the scene through his binoculars.
“It’s effective. But…”
His gaze fixed on a specific point.
The knights.
Twenty knights, their bodies radiating aura, charged forward.
Fwoosh!
As blue aura enveloped their bodies, the knights surged forward like enraged warhorses.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Sparks flew from their armor and skin as bullets struck, but the knights pressed on.
This won’t do.
If they reached the defensive line, the situation would turn against them in an instant.
He had to end this before that happened.
“Leon, fall back!”
At Yujin’s shout, Leon retreated.
Yujin immediately grabbed the long case lying beside him.
Click!
As he opened it, the black metal gleamed.
Barrett M82.
Originally designed to destroy vehicles and lightly armored targets, the Barrett M82 fired 12.7mm rounds. It was the perfect weapon for hunting knights, each of whom was as valuable as an armored vehicle or even a tank.
Thud.
Yujin lifted the Barrett and set it up on the embankment. After shouldering the heavy rifle, which weighed a staggering 14 kilograms, he aligned the crosshairs of the scope with the chest of the charging knight.
One down.
Yujin took a deep breath and slowly squeezed the trigger.
Boom—!
The Barrett’s thunderous roar shook the battlefield. The 12.7mm armor-piercing round, traveling at supersonic speeds, tore across the battlefield. The result was devastating.
Thwack—!
The knight’s eyes widened as the bullet pierced through his aura and punched through his chest.
“Huh…?”
Even as he ran, he stared down at his chest in disbelief.
And then—
Thud!
The knight collapsed forward, mid-charge.
Death.
“The k-knight…!”
“The knight is dead!”
The soldiers were stunned.
The knight was the god of the battlefield—a tactical weapon that wielded aura with effortless mastery, a being no ordinary human could ever defeat.
But now, that myth was crumbling.
Click!
Yujin reloaded, aimed at another knight, and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The second knight fell.
Bang! Bang!
The third, the fourth.
With each thunderous roar of the Barrett, a knight fell.
“W-what is happening?!”
“Is that magic?”
“I’ve never heard of a mage in Crocus!”
Fear slowly spread among Bolton’s knights.
Their forward momentum gradually faltered.
“R-Retreat!” someone shouted.
It was Gorbon, watching the scene from the rear.
“Retreat! The entire army withdraws!”
“Retreat!”
“Order the retreat!”
At the command, Bolton’s army began to withdraw in disarray.
Knights dragged their fallen comrades as they retreated, followed by soldiers scrambling out of the river in panic.
Bang! Bang!
Crocus soldiers continued to fire at the retreating enemy.
“W-We won! Should we pursue?”
“No.”
Eugene shook his head at the surprised Jerome.
“We hold this position.”
Eugene watched the retreating enemy through his binoculars.
Dozens of corpses lay scattered across the riverbed, their blood staining the dry riverbed crimson.
Eugene lowered the Barrett rifle slung over his shoulder and surveyed the battlefield.
“Report casualties.”
“…Five of our warriors killed, twelve wounded, sir.”
Jerome reported.
“The enemy?”
“Approximately eighty killed, by my estimate. We confirmed four knights.”
Five against eighty.
And four knights on top of that.
An unexpectedly overwhelming victory.
Eugene trained his binoculars on the Bolton army’s camp, now about a kilometer away.
About a kilometer… They’re planning to regroup.
Eugene’s eyes narrowed.
“Resupply ammunition and evacuate the wounded to the rear.”
“Yes, my lord!”
After issuing the command, Eugene raised the Barrett rifle again.
“…My lord?”
“If we let them regroup, they’ll attack again.”
Jerome asked with a puzzled expression. Eugene answered calmly, slinging the Barrett over his shoulder.
“We must finish them here.”
His eyes gleamed coldly.
The retreating Bolton army hastily withdrew to their camp, about a kilometer away.
“The wounded first!”
“Where are the medics?!”
“Water! Bring water!”
Amidst the chaos of defeat, the soldiers carried their wounded comrades, while the medics busied themselves treating the injuries.
Watching this scene, Lord Gorbon Bolton’s hands trembled as he dismounted.
“Your Lordship…”
Manuel approached.
“Are you alright?”
“How could I be alright?!” Gorbon’s voice was parched as he answered. “Eighty men dead. In a single battle.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“And the knights?”
“Four were killed in action.”
Manuel reported grimly.
Four out of twenty. One-fifth.
Gorbun lowered his head. “W-what on earth is that weapon…?”
“It’s likely an Earth weapon,” Manuel replied. “But I’ve never seen anything so powerful… It pierced through aurors.”
After speaking, Manuel turned to his knights. Their faces were filled with terror. They were the main force of the Bolton Earldom, the heroes who had always brought victory on the battlefield.
But not anymore.
“My Lord,” one of the knights approached Gorbun. “What shall we do?”
“…Regroup,” Gorbun said. “First, treat the wounded and reform the ranks. And then…”
His words trailed off.
What should we do?
Attacking again would be suicide. But retreating? He couldn’t bear to admit defeat at the hands of a mere baron.
“My Lord, I…”
Manuel cautiously tried to voice his opinion, but he couldn’t finish. The reason was simple:
Thwack!
His head had already exploded into fragments.
“Ugh, ugh, aah!”
“What the hell?!”
Bolton was stunned by Manuel’s death, which had occurred without any warning.
Boom!
The thunderous explosion came a moment later—that damned, cursed boom.
Damn it all!
Gorbane swiftly drew his aura and dismounted.
The fact that he moved less than a second after assessing the situation revealed the extraordinary senses and reflexes of the knights.
Thump!
As if mocking this, a chilling sound echoed as his left arm exploded.
Wh-what kind of power is this?!
Decades had passed since the war with Earth ended.
The only words that came to his mind as he faced their devilish weapons once again were:
“F-scatter! Scatter in all directions!”
At his command, the knights and soldiers fled the camp at full speed.
Even Count Gorbane, who was pressing a cloth to the stump of his severed left arm, did the same.
This… this isn’t war.
It was a hunt.
The superhumans, who had once swept across battlefields with a single sword, were now reduced to mere rabbits and deer fleeing in terror before the weapons of Earth.
Fear.
The primal fear of death, an emotion he had never felt before, surged through the depths of his chest.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Amidst the chaos, the thunderous roar of gunfire continued unabated.
With each shot, another knight or soldier fell.
A single word flashed through Gorbon’s mind:
Surrender.
“…No.”
Gorbon shook his head.
“I am the Earl of Bolton. I cannot surrender to the likes of Crocus…”
Boom!
Another shot rang out.
A soldier charging ahead fell, struck in the head.
Gorbon stared at the crimson blood spattering his boots.
Pride.
Honor.
The prestige of his family.
But…
“…White flag.”
All of it would mean nothing if he didn’t survive.
“Raise the white flag!”
Gorbon roared.
It was a declaration of surrender.
Yujin lowered Barret and stood up.
In the distance, a white flag fluttered above the Bolton camp.
Its meaning was clear.
“…Are you surrendering?” Jerome asked, his face incredulous.
Yujin nodded. “It seems so.”
Soon, Yujin began walking slowly toward the Bolton camp.
“My Lord! It’s dangerous!”
“It’s fine.”
Despite the Knight Commander Leon’s protests, Yujin continued toward the enemy camp.
Seeing this, Leon and Jerome hurried to follow. Yujin stopped about 200 meters from the Bolton camp.
“Count Bolton!” Yujin shouted loudly. “Are you surrendering?”
How much time passed?
“…Yes.”
From afar, Gorbon, who had lost his left arm, appeared.
“We surrender.”
Eugene stared at him.
A prominent noble from the eastern empire, a count who had led 500 soldiers and 20 knights.
And now, he was surrendering to Eugene.
Eugene said, “First, lay down all your weapons. Have the other knights withdraw as well.”
“…Understood.”
Gorbon nodded grimly.
Eugene paused, considering.
Now, I need to think about the reparations.
He had initially demanded 50,000 Amil, but the situation had changed.
This was a complete victory, achieved through an overwhelming military advantage.
I can get more.
Having finished his thoughts, Eugene opened his mouth.
“The reparations will be 100,000 amil.”
“What, what did you say?”
Gorbun’s face contorted.
“100,000 amil! That’s outrageous—”
At that, Eugene raised his rifle to the sky.
Then—
Bang!
The demon’s roar echoed, and Gorbun flinched involuntarily.
Eugene lowered the rifle and said coldly,
“This is not a negotiation.”
His eyes fixed on Gorbun.
“It’s a declaration.”
Silence hung in the air.
Gorbun clenched his trembling fist.
But in the end…
“…Very well.”
He had no choice but to lower his head.
“I accept.”
Eugene nodded in satisfaction.
“Very well.”
He turned to face Jerome.
“Summon the troops. Take in the prisoners.”
“Understood!”
Jerome hurried away.
Eugene looked down at Gorbon, who had lowered his head again.
For now, it’s over.
Victory.
A perfect victory.