"Kill!"
Soldiers climbed the long scaling ladders like ants, while shouts rang out atop the walls. "Drop the stones!"
A volley of stones tumbled from the battlements, instantly drawing a chorus of screams from below.
"Prepare the golden juice!"
Cauldron after cauldron held boiling sewage, its stench rising to the heavens.
"Pour!"
The boiling sewage poured down like a waterfall, followed by screams of unimaginable agony.
Even armored men screamed and fell the instant the boiling sewage drenched their faces and bodies. Those who died in the fall were fortunate.
Those who survived rolled back and forth on the ground, howling in voices that no longer sounded human.
Sewage scalds were severe burns. They were difficult to treat even in modern times, let alone in antiquity. Even those with lesser burns had their wounds contaminated by the sewage; almost all would become infected and rot, leaving no chance of survival.
Even the well-trained Ying soldiers showed hesitation and fear at the sight.
But military orders stood like mountains. The Ying Army continued its assault, soldiers collapsing below the walls with agonized cries or screaming as they fell from the ladders.
An eagle swept overhead. Beneath its gaze, a black mass of men, glimmering faintly with blades, crashed like a torrent of iron against a rocky reef. Countless broken weapons and severed limbs sprayed into the air, and blood streamed down.
Even so, the Ying Army's spears stood like a forest, its banners massed in rows, its momentum towering like a mountain.
"Our casualties are considerable."
On an observation platform built from a mound of earth, the general stood amid layer upon layer of armored guards. His expression remained unchanged, save for a twitch of his facial muscles.
He had thought a commandery city could be taken in a single charge.