"Boom..."
White smoke belched from six cast-steel gun muzzles, joining into a ribbon of cloud across the plain. Six-pound iron shot traced graceful arcs into the stone towers, the dull crash of shattering masonry mingling with the defenders' screams as they fell.
Beside the Six-Pounder Field Guns, the gleaming barrels of twelve Crouching Tiger Cannons flashed in the sunlight. The gunners swapped in preloaded ammunition in a seamless rhythm-a certain player's latest design, which tripled the cannons' rate of fire if barrel life was disregarded.
Scattered bolts and arrows from crossbows and hunting bows flew back from behind the battlements, but the return fire was far too sparse, and its range and power were nothing special. The orderly ranks of players below the walls simply ignored it.
Only the militia farther back were startled. They ran a few steps away, then looked back, saw that little harm had been done, and turned around to run back again.
This was a castle siege on King's Plain. The attackers were more than a hundred players in black uniforms and a large mass of local militia.
Chris had been inspecting nearby farmland on horseback when the cannon fire startled him. He hurried over with his men, arriving just in time to see the players leading the militia in a fierce bombardment of the castle with Six-Pounder Field Guns and Crouching Tiger Cannons.
One look told Chris that something was definitely going on here. He stopped and surveyed the battlefield through his telescope.
The attacking players, all dressed in black uniforms with assorted types of armor, were probably members of the Inquisition. There was currently only one official Inquisitor, so they were likely his retinue, and they had no authority to mobilize militia... at least, not over a thousand of them.
Inquisitor Street-Sweeper was