Baron George and Baron Lusca were stunned. They'd expected a bloodbath, but this was how the battle was going? Where had Lynn gotten weapons with such tremendous power?
When Lynn's army had advanced to within five hundred meters, it stopped again and began another round of bombardment.
Even though the gates had already been blown apart, Lynn continued shelling them, doing everything he could to avoid close combat.
"Hunter Company! Advance three hundred meters and fire in a skirmish line!"
"Artillery, fire at will! Blast the defenders on the walls!"
The artillery began covering the skirmishers as they advanced to within two hundred meters of the walls and started picking off any defenders who showed their heads.
The defenders on the walls began firing war bows at the hunters within range, but it wasn't long before the artillery forced them to keep their heads down.
The defenders inside the town were stunned. They could only hide behind the walls.
The stone walls weren't very thick. Some sections were already on the verge of collapsing, and others had been breached.
"First Battalion, Second Battalion, advance!"
"Artillery, cease fire!"
Under the skirmishers' cover, Lynn's troops advanced once more.
The infantry at the front began moving toward the breaches in the walls.
"They're attacking!"
"Block the breaches!"
The soldiers inside the walls naively thought Lynn would fight them at close quarters. When he stopped firing, some began shooting back with bows and crossbows.
But Lynn's infantry marched forward like machines, paying them no heed. They pressed on through arrows and magic until they were fifty meters away.
The officers at the front gave the order. "First and second ranks, raise your guns and take aim!"
"Fire!"
Flint scraped against steel, throwing sparks that ignited the priming powder and sent the buckshot flying.
The concentrated fire felled the defenders at the breaches, leaving scores dead and wounded.
Lynn's flintlocks were designed to use buckshot as standard ammunition. A single volley from just a few dozen men produced firepower as dense as that of several hundred crossbowmen.
And crossbow bolts were no match for bullets.
The gaps between the first-rank Line Infantry were the second rank's firing lanes. Both ranks fired at once, and in an instant, scores of the shield-bearing soldiers blocking the breaches were killed or wounded.
As they fell, time seemed to slow. They couldn't understand what had happened. All they knew was that they were falling, that they'd been struck down.
Many unlucky men didn't even experience that slowing of time. Lead bullets tore into their bodies. Musket balls in the flintlock era were enormous, and the resulting cavity effect devastated internal organs and blood vessels, leaving them like minced meat.
The pain was unbearable!
Some unlucky men had their heads blown apart outright!
Other bullets happened to miss the bones and pass straight through, injuring the people behind them.
Just imagine it.
A group of men marched toward you like machines, in matching uniforms, accompanied by cheerful music. You attacked them, but they ignored you. They weren't even shield-bearing infantry—just soldiers who looked like they were carrying sticks! They wore armor, and sometimes an arrow would get lodged in it because of the angle. But apart from those rare exceptions, they just kept walking. Once they were close enough, they suddenly fired a volley that seemed like magic, cutting down scores of your men.
The defenders' morale began to crumble on the spot.
It was especially horrifying to see someone's head blown apart.
Even being struck by an iron ball and reduced to scraps was enough to shatter their morale.
The firepower was too intense, the destructive power too great.
Even the rocks those Orcs threw couldn't do this much damage!
No matter how powerful hand-thrown stones or catapult stones were, they could never match the power of firearms.
Otherwise, why had stone-throwing cannons become so popular?
And why, in 1453, had someone brought along a gigantic cannon?
"Fix bayonets!"
"Charge!"
Lynn's troops charged, and the enemy completely broke. They'd been able to trade fire before, but now that the enemy was charging, they didn't dare face them in a melee.
Some of the civilian soldiers began to flee. A few knights tried to stop them, but couldn't.
One man running could set ten others running. Ten could set a hundred in motion!
The defenders began fleeing into town, and the Line Infantry pursued them, turning the retreat into a rout.
"Surrender at once! Lay down your weapons and you'll be spared!"
Magic amplified the voice so everyone in town could hear.
The infantry pursued anyone still holding a weapon, bayonets in hand.
They drove their bayonets into the men from behind.
Gla Town, a settlement of roughly ten thousand people, was captured just like that. The battle took less than an hour. No one died; only a little over a hundred people were wounded by arrows. In a world without magic, even those injuries might have been serious.
They could have led to inflammation or infection.
But this was a world of magic. One spell from the army's accompanying medics was enough to heal them, and after a few days of rest, they'd be fine.
Before you continue