"Whoosh—BOOM!!!"
A shriek sharp enough to tear through the air came hurtling closer from afar, so fast that there was no time to make any effective response.
Thomas only had time to instinctively duck his neck. Then, less than thirty paces to his left, a flower of death burst open, mixed with fire, black smoke, and lethal fragments! A Carnford solid cannonball smashed viciously into the edge of the tightly packed slave formation.
"Splurt! Crack! Aaah—!"
Near the point of impact, at least four or five slave soldiers, along with their crude wooden shields, were torn apart and flung into the air by the violent force in an instant.
Severed limbs, broken weapons, bloodstained scraps of cloth, and fragments of armor scattered through the air like rubbish tossed up by an invisible hand, raining down on the bodies and faces of those nearby. Warm liquid carrying a strong rusty stench splashed across half of Thomas's body. He stiffly raised a hand to wipe his face, and his palm came away with a sticky dark red smear.
"Ugh..." His stomach churned violently. Thomas gasped for breath as icy air mixed with gunpowder smoke, blood, and the stench of ruptured intestines flooded his lungs, setting off a violent coughing fit.
Carnford's artillery fire seemed to have adjusted its angle and was growing ever more accurate. The shells no longer merely fell onto the open ground far ahead, but began smashing one after another into the hastily assembled, densely packed formations of the Sauron Army.
With every dull boom of artillery, Thomas felt as though an icy hand had clenched around his heart. He trembled in terror, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat. He could feel the uncontrollable shivering of the slaves around him and hear their teeth chattering with soft