Extreme Cold Era: Shelter Don't Keep Waste
Chapter 72: Brutal Suppression

Chapter 72: Chapter 72: Brutal Suppression

Upon hearing the gunshots and explosions, Perfikot was the first to realize she was being assassinated.

However, she didn’t panic. Instead, she immediately tapped her cane against the carriage, instantly changing its material, transforming the wooden exterior into steel plates and weaving a wire mesh over the windows.

In this era, both bombs and bullets were limited in lethality due to the use of black powder. As long as she wasn’t hit directly or got out of the carriage herself, a layer of steel would ensure her safety.

Moreover, with so many knights protecting the carriage, Perfikot wasn’t worried about anything happening to her here.

Attempting to assassinate her under the watchful eyes of a title knight and several grand knights without an entire regiment armed with heavy weapons in formation was simply unthinkable.

The era of knights might have ended, but that didn’t mean knights had been eliminated from the battlefield.

Unlike ordinary horse-drawn carriages, the steam carriage didn’t have horses panicking and running amok when attacked.

As it continued forward, Perfikot looked out the window, seeing two knights of the Sword and Rose Knight Order riding towards the crowd, discovering the attackers and eliminating the threat.

The other knights stayed close by her side, shielding the carriage with their swords and shields, blocking the assassins’ shots.

This may sound bizarre, but for a knight, cutting down a flintlock gun or an older firelock bullet with a sword wasn’t particularly difficult.

After all, knights are an extraordinary profession, although they don’t possess the miraculous abilities of mages or the capacity of alchemists to build towering structures swiftly. They possess strong physique and combat skills.

Otherwise, knights wouldn’t have remained as the absolute main force on battlefields for the past thousand years.

The formidable knights gave Perfikot a great sense of security. Sitting in the carriage, she even pondered, what if the knights protecting her today wore steam knight armor?

"Still too brutal..." Perfikot recalled the scene of Foster testing steam knights at Brandelis Manor, thinking that such battlefield heavy equipment against assassins was excessively violent.

Steam knights, in a sense, were like tanks of this era, yet highly mobile.

Perfikot didn’t pause; the steam carriage and the knights guarding her quickly escorted her back to the White Gem at the dock.

Upon learning of Perfikot’s assassination, the once-idle infantry company immediately set up various weapons at the dock, establishing barricades, taking a defensive stance, directly sealing off the entire dock.

The knights also fully armed themselves, ready to enter battle at any moment.

Previously, they carried only swords and shields, thinking that attending a banquet and being in an imperial city posed little danger. They weren’t in full armor; not even helmets were worn.

But now that Perfikot had been attacked, the situation changed. All the knights quickly armed themselves fully, even their horses wore complete barding, with ammunition loaded for their charging guns.

"Miss, I suggest the White Gem immediately fire up and retreat to the sea, as these assassins dare to strike on the streets, making it too dangerous here." Foster, anxious, never expected such a thing in a bustling imperial city.

Perfikot, however, was indifferent to this, merely shaking her head and saying, "They should be from the Independent Faction, and today’s assassination was likely a spur-of-the-moment decision and not targeted at me.

Perhaps my high-profile entourage today attracted the attention of these independent factions, thinking assassinating me could undermine the empire and garner more support for their independence movement?

That idea is indeed clever, but the execution is lacking. Without the involvement of the Extraordinary, they dream of assassinating me? Hehe.

No need to retreat to the sea; just have the guards lock down the port. I don’t believe they can muster a force to breach the defenses of the guards and knights."

"Miss, your safety must..." Foster wanted to say more, but Perfikot raised her hand to stop him.

"Uncle Fu, bring out that item you prepared. It didn’t get used during the rescue of Morgan. Now’s the time to show it; I need you with Knight Arthur and his flag team to clear out the assassins and their allies." Perfikot’s gaze was cold, with a trace of hesitation and reluctance, but ultimately she said to Foster, "The best way to defend against assassination is not to evade, but to uproot all who wish to kill. Coordinate with the colonial authorities; I want their corpses hanging from the port streetlamps by morning."

"Miss..." Foster was stunned by the cold and harsh order Perfikot gave.

"Uncle Fu, I know what you want to say. I’m not cruel, but sometimes we have to use harsh measures to intimidate the enemy." Perfikot’s tone carried a deliberately feigned cruelty, along with an unconscious tremble: "You’re aware of the situation we’re facing. If I show mercy now, causing a large-scale uprising in the New Continent, disrupting its situation, it would be bad for the empire and myself.

I can only use the most brutal measures to intimidate everyone, to instill fear, to keep them from meddling at this time.

So execute my command! Even if deemed a cruel demon, I must do this! Let those from the Independent Faction hang from all the port’s streetlamps! I want rivers of blood!"

Foster understood Perfikot’s intent. The loyal old butler’s expression turned mournful: "Miss, this isn’t your burden to bear..."

"But wasn’t I destined to be here? Fate sure does toy with us!" Perfikot sighed, then turned to Foster and said apologetically, "Sorry, Uncle Fu, for staining your hands with blood."

"Miss, there’s no need to apologize. As your butler, I pledged loyalty to the Brandlis Clan during your grandfather’s era; it’s merely killing." Foster feigned relief with a smile, bowed to Perfikot, then turned and left.

Yet the old butler’s departing silhouette was filled with iron and bloodshed.