I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution Chapter 85

“Almost there! Let’s go meet up with that big oaf Luge and the others!”

The nun’s voice rang inside the ponytailed man’s mech.

At this moment, her mech’s exterior looked rather battered.

The Seris royal capital was like a hive that had been blown open.

She was just about to nock an arrow when she sensed a threat from the side. Without thinking, she turned and loosed an arrow, obliterating the entire area.

The nun was growing irritable. From time to time, soldiers carrying launchers would suddenly appear right in her face.

She had to look after her teammates in front while also fending off the omnipresent bombardments. It was inevitable that her movements were a bit clumsy.

Once again, she swung out a colossal wave of sword energy, vaporizing soldiers rushing to reinforce, while also cleaving houses in half. The ponytailed man responded:

“Good.”

He saw a girl standing at his feet, not even as tall as his calf. A malicious grin spread across his face as he raised his foot and stomped down hard. The expected spray of blood did not occur. Instead, a massive counter-shock force bounced him back.

“Hm?”

Sherria withdrew the massive axe she had just swung, letting it slam into the ground with a dull thud. She glanced at the hellish streets around her, then raised her head, expressionless, to face the towering mech.

Both hands gripped the axe handle as she twisted her waist. Sparks flew as the long-handled axe scraped a semicircle across the ground. With a flick of her wrist upward, a bolt of lightning shot from the axe’s head.

The axe’s sideways swing carried her small body high into the air. With another twist of her wrist, she shifted the swing from horizontal to vertical. Gripping the long handle with one hand, she spun two and a half times in midair to build momentum, then grasped with both hands and brought the weapon down toward the iron giant that had just steadied itself.

The long-haired man instinctively raised his sword to block.

‘Boom!’

A peal of thunder erupted from the clear, cloudless sky, striking the descending axe. The seemingly small axe, compared to the massive greatsword, shone with a deep blue glow, accelerating further as it crashed down onto the greatsword.

There were no sparks of clashing steel. Sherria’s massive axe struck the ground unimpeded, unleashing a violent explosion and a billowing cloud of dust.

When the smoke cleared, there was no sign of the iron giant at the center of the strike—only a crater several meters wide and dozens of meters deep.

Sherria raised her head again to look into the distance.

The nun inside the mech saw those utterly emotionless violet eyes and felt her heart twitch twice.

Dropping her bow, she raised both hands high.

Very sensibly, she made the internationally recognized gesture of surrender. Using the mech’s amplified mental power, she scanned for the ponytailed man’s traces… oh, half of him, at least.

In a flicker, Sherria appeared before her. Gazing at the blood-soaked street that looked like a slaughterhouse, she said coldly to the nun: “You have angered a lion.”

After a round of carpet bombing ended and the smoke dispersed, the two mechs’ figures were revealed again.

Mitia frowned. It looked like the fighter project needed to speed up. Not that monoplane designs couldn’t work, but for now, twin wings offered better cost-effectiveness.

The two men leaned against each other, one behind the other.

The brawny man’s massive shield was half-destroyed, and their mechs were riddled with wounds of every size.

‘Beep… beep…’

“Retreat!!!”

Seeing the flashing red lights and alarms in their cockpits, they swung their arms, unleashing two towering fire tornadoes at the troops, while the brown-haired man decisively ordered a retreat.

At this point, they could still run with their mechs. If they delayed any longer, they would have to abandon them and escape on foot.

They hadn’t even won while wearing the mechs—without them, the Seris Federation army would reduce their remains to ashes.

The magic these giant mechs unleashed was at least seventh-tier instant-cast spells, with destructive power to match.

Mitia blocked the twin fire tornadoes. Her mental power locked onto the fleeing pair, relaying real-time coordinates to Anna so the heavy mortar units could lob bombardments.

The fugitives were repeatedly struck by bombardments raining from the sky.

After taking two direct hits, the brawny man’s mech was the first to collapse.

In desperation, he ejected, only to be scooped up by the brown-haired man’s mech as he fled.

Mitia was in hot pursuit when she saw them suddenly halt ahead. Sensing something was wrong, she tried to retreat, but the ground beneath them lit up with the pattern of a large magic array, and the three of them instantly vanished from the street.

“Heh heh…”

Mitia had just shaken off the dizziness of teleportation when she saw a massive iron giant charging straight at her.

Without a thought, she pulled a musket from her space ring and fired. With a deafening blast, the shot hit the giant’s shoulder, blasting one arm off.

Mitia frowned at the overheated musket barrel, already warped out of shape. Prototype weapons like this really were unreliable.

The brown-haired man, clambering out of his mech in disarray, was overjoyed at the sight. “Her gun broke! Excellent—capture her! Then we can get out of here safely!”

Nearby, the brawny man, dazed from being tossed aside by the teleportation array, also climbed to his feet. Seeing Mitia in her elegant gown, he grinned savagely: “Two against one—we’ve got the advantage!”

Mitia, hearing this, said dryly: “And where exactly did you get that confidence?”

“Let’s see… hmm, you both look to be in decent shape. Don’t tell me you’ve been running entirely on the mech’s power? Doesn’t that mean even ordinary people could pilot those things?”

The brown-haired man sneered. “Those are just external tools. Our greatest strength is ourselves!”

“Take a good look at the terrain. This isn’t suited to your kind of backwater subcontinent mage fighting style.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a strange weapon from his space ring, something between a spear and a staff, while the brawny man donned a set of arm-guards.

Mitia glanced around at the terrain.

They seemed to be in a mountain range near the capital, with jagged rocks and fake peaks everywhere, plenty of cover to block sight.

She understood what the man meant.

This place was ill-suited for a ranged mage.

The brawny man, like a giant bear, charged at her, wild and domineering.

His massive fist aimed straight for her face, intent on knocking her out with one punch.

Mitia pushed off the ground with her toes, extended one hand to cover his fist, and used his forward momentum to retreat and diffuse the force.

Finally, she stopped, gripping his fist, twisted her waist, and hurled him aside.

At the same time, her right hand condensed a magical longsword, deflecting the brown-haired man’s thrust with a crisp ‘clang.’ Her pale left fist flared with flame that crystallized instantly, then she swung it wide and smashed it into his head.

The man, too slow to dodge, took the punch full in the cheek, let out a scream, and toppled sideways.

Mitia spun half a circle and followed with a roundhouse kick, sending him flying across the air.

She didn’t pursue. Instead, she straightened up, traced a line across her long dress to shorten it to knee-length. Elegance never went out of style.

“Pff…”

The brown-haired man got up, his swollen face spitting a mouthful of clotted blood: ‘What the… weren’t you supposed to be some bumpkin mage?’

“Aren’t you both mages too?”

Mitia shot back, setting her stance with one foot forward and one back in a scissor step.

The rocky ground beneath her feet began to show faint red-and-white crystalline patterns, wisps of steam rising where they intersected. She placed her left hand behind her back:

“What a coincidence. Aside from magic, I happen to know a bit of martial arts.”

As for magic, besides a few notes left by her grandfather, she had only ever hired a few teachers for instruction, barely learning anything. Her skills were pure improvisation, relying on talent rather than training.

But when it came to martial arts—in her previous world, there had been no shortage of them.

“No! Impossible!”