Soon, several soldiers in the army came over carrying a bow.
This was a stone bow. To ordinary bows, shooting three hundred paces was nothing but a dream—the farther a bow could shoot, the heavier it had to be.
This bow had been forged from stone and weighed over a thousand jin. It had originally been meant for shooting at Jiangdong's warships.
Several Black Armored Army soldiers had to draw it together. Once fired, it could blast a huge hole through an enemy warship. Its power was terrifying.
But if one wanted to lift and use this bow alone, one had to be at least a first-rate martial general.
The bow's range was also exactly three hundred paces. A first-rate martial general could draw it at most about a hundred paces, while top-tier generals like Guan Yu and Zhang Fei could manage only a hundred and forty or fifty paces at most.
Yet Jiang Siming intended to use this stone bow to shoot three hundred paces—and hit the small branch on the Fangtian Huaji.
In the eyes of every soldier and officer present, that was absolutely impossible.
Even Zhao Yun had already ordered all the soldiers to prepare for the siege.
Jiang Siming took the stone bow carried over by two Black Armored Army soldiers and effortlessly lifted it with one hand. He even waved it around as though dissatisfied with its weight.
From atop the city tower, Gongsun Zan watched in disbelief. King Ming truly is both civil and martial!
After testing its weight, Jiang Siming raised the stone bow, nocked an iron arrow, lifted it, and aimed at the city wall.
None of the soldiers on the wall reacted. Some even wore disdainful smiles.
Three hundred paces, and he wanted to shoot an arrow over? Dream on!
Whoosh!