Shells fell across the wasteland, forcing the earth to heave. One came down, then more. Reeking soil sprayed up, and bones were violently crushed into mud within it. The tremendous rumble, together with the flames streaking across the sky, formed a sonata of war.
The power of gunpowder had still not gone out of date after tens of thousands of years.
At first, it had been used to split mountains and crack stone. Now, the people of Konor used it to fight Feng. This Feng had a physical form. It lurched forward, and with every step it took, the ground trembled.
Pus and the bones of the dead rolled down from its enormous body, then were blasted to pieces by its own footsteps or by shells. The Black Tower's barrier still existed, but its effect had already been weakened. The air had become damp and foul, smelling like indescribably rancid biochemical waste. Everyone knew what would happen if that Feng was allowed to approach the city, so they fought desperately to stop it.
And for the moment, none of this had anything to do with the twelve Iron Snakes of Priad's squad.
"Fire!"
Bach shouted hoarsely again and again. He had repeated those words dozens of times, and the mechanical repetition brought results that were just barely acceptable.
Twelve Bolters loaded with enchanted magazines fired continuously. Runes flashed without end, and glaring flame or deathly frost left indelible scars of damage on the thick wall formed by rotting vines, but they did not care at all.
Those destroyed or soon-to-be-destroyed plants still writhed. Their sickly yellow-brown surfaces looked on the verge of withering, yet after being struck by the bolts, many white growths abruptly surged out of them, increasing their thickness to an astonishing degree.
They advanced, and Bach knew