Slap in the Face

"No! Not that kind, Great Chieftain!" Hakon hurriedly shook his head, lingering fear showing on his face. "They have two kinds of Cannon! One is indeed long-barreled and mounted on a carriage, but... but its rate of fire is unbelievably fast! Faster even than a volley from well-trained archers!"

"I saw it with my own eyes. When our warriors charged in tight formation, their Cannonballs came crashing down like hail! There was no time to dodge! Solid shot could easily punch through several men, while another kind, explosive shell, would detonate in midair, sending iron fragments flying. One explosion could tear through an entire section! Our formation... was scattered in an instant!"

He paused, breathing rapidly, as though he had once again witnessed that hellish scene. "And... and there's an even more terrifying kind! That Cannon is tiny, perhaps not even fifty jin in weight, and it doesn't have a carriage at all! They simply drive several iron spikes hard into the ground to hold it in place!"

"When fired, its sound is terrifying, like the roar of hell! It doesn't fire solid shot—it fires grapeshot! From several dozen paces away, or even a dozen or so, one blast sends a whole spread of iron pellets and stones sweeping over us! Like a gale ripping across a wheat field! One blast... just one blast can turn dozens of our warriors into sieves! Flesh and blood everywhere! There's no way to stop it!"

Although Hakon's description was somewhat disjointed from fear, it painted an extraordinarily vivid picture of the terrifying power of the Carnford Army's Cannon. In particular, there was that new type of Cannon with its rapid rate of fire and excellent mobility, as well as the close-combat butcher known as the grapeshot Mortar!

At last, the great hall could