I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

“Woo~~~~”

A resounding horn echoed across Coparac Port, stirring wave after wave of cheers from the crowd gathered at the docks.

With two triple-mounted 305mm main gun turrets at the front and two at the rear—four in total—alongside 20 127mm secondary guns, 15 quadruple-mounted 40mm anti-aircraft autocannons, and 30 twin-mounted dual-purpose 20mm autocannons, the ship had a full-load displacement of nearly 30,000 tons.

The Dreadnought-class battleship was massive, like a moving mountain upon the sea. When it docked at the port, its towering structure and thick gun barrels instantly captivated the vast majority of men.

Without exaggeration, the leap from 3,000-ton wooden ships to today’s 30,000-ton steel giants had completely established the national confidence of the Alliance’s citizens.

Today, it would serve as the flagship, leading a large number of Alliance students to the Ernesto Republic to assist in construction efforts. The Alliance could be said to have bestowed the utmost honor and importance upon these students.

At the same time, this also served as an official declaration to the public—that supporting the development of fellow brother nations was an act of great honor.

Inside the Royal Palace, Mitia and Anna were also watching the magical broadcast. As she observed the fleet gradually departing from the harbor, Anna—who had somewhat recovered—couldn’t help but ask:

“Milady, is this really alright?”

She understood many of Mitia’s thoughts. Everything else was manageable, but when it came to talent, Mitia was extremely frugal—almost to the point of wanting to take even other people’s pots.

And in the current situation, it could essentially be seen as their own cultivated talents being indirectly lured away by others. That was why Anna raised the question.

Half-reclining, Mitia played with Anna’s small hand and said helplessly:

“Although I’m not entirely happy about it, this is completely normal. It’s determined by the ideology we’ve cultivated.”

“A person’s thoughts become language, language becomes behavior, behavior becomes habit, habit becomes character—and character determines destiny.”

Anna nodded thoughtfully.

These words could be considered a summary of how to guide others into becoming what one desired.

By using a favorable environment to guide them, subtly influencing and reshaping their thinking—once that line of thought could withstand scrutiny, it would sink deeper and deeper into their minds, gradually changing their conduct and habits.

As more such individuals appeared, they would slowly guide societal trends, ultimately influencing the nation as a whole and pushing it in that direction.

While Alliance students crossed the ocean in pursuit of their ideals, countless humanitarian tragedies were unfolding on the other side of the subcontinent.

The army of the Kingdom of Cabansia, upon capturing each village or town, would carry out wanton massacres and looting. They paid no regard to identity or surrender—everything of value was divided among themselves, while grain was taken as military provisions.

Even after years of adopting firearms, they still maintained the practices of the old aristocratic armies.

This method of distribution sustained the Kingdom of Cabansia Army’s intense combativeness and aggression, making them more battle-hardened than soldiers of other nations.

As news of the frontline attacks spread, 20,000 troops from Oderlinsar State were mobilized to reinforce the main battlefield of Putum, while Ongita State sent reinforcements to Kurgs State.

Along the way, they escorted fleeing civilians and re-established a defensive line within Kurgs State.

After initial chaos, Putum State quickly stabilized its position. A large number of 75mm field guns continuously bombarded the frontline defensive positions, preventing Cabansia’s main forces from advancing even a single step further.

Meanwhile, after several days of urgent construction in the rear, trenches were put into use, making the White Zone army’s defense increasingly effective.

A force of 100,000 against 20,000—what seemed like an overwhelming numerical advantage failed to achieve the results Warwick had expected in the face of trench warfare.

As machine-gun and artillery fortifications were deployed and more trenches were dug, forming an interconnected trench network, it became a nightmare the Cabansia soldiers would never forget.

Under the shadow of the powerful Alliance, Cabansia had not experienced large-scale warfare for many years, aside from occasional small skirmishes.

Neither side had undergone the brutal baptism of trench warfare; all military thinking still remained in the era of traditional battlefield confrontations.

When Cabansia’s 100,000-strong army crashed headfirst into the trench defenses, less than three days passed. After only three organized charges in total, the entire army collapsed.

The wealth and women they had expected never appeared—only endless smoke-filled defensive fortifications, bullets flying overhead, and artillery shells exploding around them.

They had never experienced such a hell of flesh and blood. Some were driven to mental breakdowns by the relentless bombardment.

The fear of battle grew so overwhelming that even the Kingdom’s officers were helpless. If they continued forcing the soldiers to charge to their deaths, they themselves would likely meet grim ends.

Fortunately, reinforcements from other regions were progressing well. They began constructing fortifications on the spot, surrounding the heavily fortified city—barely enough to account for the situation to their superiors.

But this was not a situation Volk could accept.

His goal had been to swiftly reclaim the White Zone before the Alliance could react, then engage in prolonged negotiations. Not to waste time in a war of attrition outside the enemy’s city.

However, before his attack orders could even be issued, nearby Alliance Red Zone states deployed their air units to strike Cabansia’s supply lines.

Supplying 100,000 troops placed immense logistical pressure—and the fighter squadrons directly severed the Kingdom Army’s supply chain.

Though they lacked authorization to deploy medium and large bombers, they could still command regular fighter aircraft.

Dozens of fighters carrying small aerial bombs conducted bombing runs against the Kingdom’s positions in Putum.

At the same time, the four heavy-caliber machine guns mounted on each aircraft continuously strafed the ground. Some pilots even flew at extremely low altitudes, adjusting their firing angles directly into the trenches.

Dense streams of bullets plowed through entire trench lines, turning soldiers who failed to take cover into shredded flesh.

Blood splattered everywhere, severed limbs were flung into the air—such scenes unfolded repeatedly across Cabansia’s positions.

They had no Mechanical Soldiers. Their troops wore either magical armor, ordinary iron armor, or even leather armor—defenses that were essentially paper in front of modern large-caliber weapons.

Overall, due to limited ammunition loads, the aircraft did not cause massive casualties—far fewer than the 75mm rapid-fire field guns.

But the shrill whistling sound of low-flying aircraft became an unforgettable terror for the Kingdom’s soldiers.

And it didn’t end there.

Once the defensive positions were fully stabilized, the White Zone forces deployed their trump card—the tank units—and launched a counterattack.

Fifteen Saint Shamon Tanks led the charge, crushing through all firepower along the Cabansia defensive lines. Their massive hulls even triggered localized mutinies within the Kingdom Army, as large numbers of soldiers in the trenches raised their hands in surrender.

Like a chain reaction, entire swathes of Kingdom soldiers began surrendering en masse.