What Meribre failed to notice was that beside every catapult, in addition to the working slaves, there were one or two people dressed in fine linen robes and holding paper and pens.
Just as artillery required solid mathematics, so too did the catapults designed by Ye Ting, a meticulous mage. These linen-robed personnel were the true operators of the catapults. Before every launch, they were responsible for providing the data needed to adjust the counterweights.
The most outstanding among them were specifically responsible for ranging shots. They would fire the calibration round, then determine the counterweight data.
Such people often made the greatest contributions in war among their peers. Thus, after the "artillery corps" was established, Egypt saw a small surge in mathematics study.
After one of the first stones missed its mark, the person responsible for ranging immediately began calculating nervously. He quickly arrived at the figures, then shouted for all the catapults to adjust.
When the two armies were roughly one hundred and twenty paces apart, the catapults attacked again.
This time, it was a volley.
More than ten enormous spheres were hurled through the air, tracing graceful parabolic arcs.
As the familiar whistling sound rang out, Meribre and his soldiers all feared for their lives. No one wanted to be smashed into pulp by those spheres.
Meribre had already begun praying to the gods, and this round of catapult fire missed as well.
However, divine protection was no match for precise calculations.
This time, every catapult's shots landed squarely in the center of the enemy formation. The deviations between the different catapults were remarkably small, clearly demonstrating the catapults' precision.
Compared to the previous barrage, this attack produced far more horrific results.
It was not merely because of the number of catapults or where they struck, but