The corners of their mouths opened slightly.
That's not a laugh.
It is a kind of instinctive and cruel satisfaction that a hunter feels when he is sure that his prey has nowhere to escape.
Redd stood on the back of the dragon, looking at the still smoking gun barrels sticking out of the windows, and the sneer at the corner of his mouth deepened.
"Firegun." He said the word again, this time louder, as if he was savoring the taste of the two words, "Artillery."
He gently patted King Ghidorah's neck.
"It's almost done." He said, "First collect the moving scrap metal and keep it."
King Ghidorah's wings suddenly flapped, and its huge body was like a moving golden mountain, swooping towards the white palace.
The three heads opened their huge mouths at the same time. Gravity Beams was not a volley, but scattered - one shot to the window on the left, one to the window on the right, and one to the gunmen behind the door.
It's not killing, it's disarming.
The golden light beam accurately swept across the firecrackers. The cast iron barrel turned into steam in the light beam. The wooden gun stock burned at the moment of contact. The gunpowder in the gunpowder pool was detonated, making a crackling sound like fried beans.
The people in black robes were frightened and fled in all directions. Some threw away the still burning gun butts in their hands, some lay on the ground with their heads in their hands, some jumped out of the window and jumped into the flower garden below, and some sat slumped in the corner with earth-colored faces.
The black-robed leader stood motionless.
He watched the golden beam of light streaking above his head, watched the priceless firecrackers disappear in the light, and watched his men collapse in terror.
His hand reached for the black iron box at his waist, his fingers resting on the obsidian surface, but he did not open it.
Inside the box is a smaller blunderbuss - a more elaborate weapon that can be held in the palm of your hand.
It was not filled with lead bullets, but with polished and poisoned silver bullets.
According to the old bachelors at Citadel, if this kind of silver bullet hits any part of the dragon, it will make the dragon lose its ability to fly within ten breaths.
But hit?
He looked at the giant beast that was circling in the sky and emitting golden light, at the golden halo that could decompose all matter, and at the pair of cold golden eyes that were looking at him, like a god looking down at ants.
His fingers slowly loosened their grip on the box.
Can't hit.
He knows.
Even if he opened the box, took out the blunderbuss, loaded it, aimed it, pulled the trigger - even if all these actions were done perfectly - the silver bullet would not hit the dragon.
Because the moment the trigger is pulled, the golden beam of light will fall on him, completely erasing him, the blunderbuss, the box, and the white palace from this world.
He is not afraid of death.
But he was afraid that his death would be meaningless.
King Ghidorah's body hovered above the palace for a moment, with three heads lowered and six golden eyes overlooking the white building.
It did not continue the attack because Redd did not give the order.
It's just there, like a golden mountain suspended in the air, trapping all those who try to escape in this palace.
On the ground, Dawg Russ' troops have rushed to the square in front of the palace.
He saw the figure of the giant beast in the sky, saw the golden halo, and saw the white smoke and flames coming out of the window.
He didn't know what happened, but he knew that His Highness was already inside. His Highness had already taken action.
"Surround the palace!" he shouted, "No one can escape!"
The soldiers spread out and ran quickly along the outer walls of the white palace, blocking all entrances and exits.
The shield bearers were in front, the spearmen were behind, and the crossbowmen set up their crossbows on the higher ground further away, aiming their arrows at every window and door.
Dawg Lars stood in front of the main entrance of the palace, raised his head and glanced at the golden beast in the sky, then took a deep breath and pulled out the sword from his waist.
"Follow me," he said.
He kicked open the palace door.
The palace door burst open under the kick of Dawg Russ, and two thick oak door panels hit the wall with a dull loud noise, shaking off the dust that had accumulated for countless years on top of the door frame.
Sunlight pours in from outside the door, illuminating the smoke and dust that fills the foyer. Those tiny particles float slowly in the light column, like countless weak fireflies, or like the palace is exhaling its last breath.
The scene inside the door made Dawg Lars' hand subconsciously tighten the hilt of his sword.
The ornate foyer of yesteryear no longer exists.
Although King Ghidorah's attack only targeted the room where the black-robed man was and those fire cannons, the shock caused by a three-hundred-ton beast hovering, swooping, and launching Gravity Beams above the palace was enough to cause this building that was not built for war to collapse from the inside out.
There were several huge gaps in the ceiling. The largest one extended from the entrance to the hall to the stairwell, and was wide enough to fit an adult's fist.
Broken gypsum rustled down from the edge of the crack and piled up on the ground into a white snowfield.
Most of the murals on the walls - those paintings depicting the history, mythology and glory of the Lys city-state - have peeled off, with only a few fragments remaining stubbornly attached to the wall. The paintings on them depict half-naked goddesses, harvested wheat ears and fully loaded merchant ships, forming an absurd contrast to the mess in front of them.
The marble floor was littered with rubble and broken glass.
Several stone pillars that originally supported the corridor on the second floor had broken. The upper half was leaning against the wall, and the lower half fell across the ground, smashing a long, delicate walnut table into pieces.
A huge crystal chandelier fell off the ceiling and fell to the ground and broke into hundreds of pieces. The crystal fragments were scattered in every corner, shining faintly in the sunlight through the smoke and dust, like tears scattered on the ground.
The air was filled with the strong smell of smoke, dust and blood.
The smell of blood was not strong, but it was particularly pungent - not because there was a lot of blood, but because the blood was mixed with the sulfur smell left after burning gunpowder, creating a strange and disgusting chemical smell.
Dawg Russ's nose twitched twice, he resisted the urge to sneeze, stepped over the threshold, and stepped into the ruins.
The sound of boots crunching on the gravel, and every step was accompanied by the sound of broken glass underfoot.
Behind him were a dozen of the most elite soldiers, with the shield bearer in front, the spear bearer in the rear, and the crossbowmen setting up their crossbows at the door, with arrow points pointed at the stairwell at the end of the hall and the corridors on the left and right sides.