Captain Dumble's orders rang out clear, and the gunners responded like clockwork.
The first shell landed just ahead of the enemy's drum and fife corps, tearing through a group of infantry. As always, it was a brutal way to die.
"Adjust three right, one up!"
"Three right, one up!" came the echo.
The cannon shifted slightly, and the next round was already being loaded.
"Fire!"
The second shot landed just behind the drum and fife corps. It missed, but still came dangerously close.
"Well done, Captain," I said, genuinely impressed.
"Save the flattery," Captain Dumble replied, brushing it off. "We haven't hit them yet."
Still, that last shot locked in our crossfire. The enemy musicians had nowhere to run now. There was no need for more adjustments.
"Fire!"
It looked like the drum and fife corps had finally realized they were being targeted. If they were wiped out, the entire army would lose coordination—commands wouldn't reach the front. That made them a priority target.
But even knowing that, they couldn't stop playing. They couldn't retreat either. Once their music stopped, their role would end completely.
In other words, they were trapped under our artillery.
"Fire!"
The fourth shot struck them directly. The sound of drums and horns was cut short as the blast scattered the unarmed musicians.
They didn't carry weapons, but in a battle like this, they were more dangerous than any foot soldier.
Even so... it was a grim sight.
Their formation collapsed. Music halted. The infantry's march rhythm should've fallen apart—
—or so I thought.
But the music hadn't stopped. It was softer now, but still there.
"Captain, over there."
I handed him my telescope.
"Hm..."
He let out a low groan. I could see why.
"So they had another corps in the rear?" he muttered.
"Probably the main group," I replied. "I see officers near them, and they're outside the range of our field cannon."
"They underestimated us," the captain said, narrowing his eyes. "But I guess we underestimated them too."
The enemy had observed us closely yesterday. They must've figured out our cannon's power, range, and how skilled our gunners were.
They used that to bait us into firing on a decoy.
The group we just hit... may have been expendable from the start.
Their lines didn't waver. Their infantry was still closing in on the walls.
Captain Dumble frowned as he measured the distance to the front lines.
"The angle's too steep..."
The city's walls were built high—too high. That made it hard to fire straight down. In older castles, cannons were placed lower to sweep across enemy ranks with level shots.
Even the idea of a "wall" had changed with time.
He adjusted quickly.
"Focus fire on the rear ranks," he ordered. "Cut their communications from the back."
One cannon wasn't enough to stop them—but it was better than nothing.
The musket battle was about to begin. Captain Dumble and I made our way down from the upper ramparts to check on the lower gun slits.
Garrison troops waited anxiously inside.
"There's way more of them than I thought..."
"We've only got ten gun slits here. How are we supposed to hold them off?"
This old oval-shaped wall... was hopelessly outdated. The current trend was star-shaped forts with built-in firing platforms. This felt like something from another era.
Captain Dumble patted a soldier on the shoulder, trying to boost morale.
"Don't panic. We don't need to wipe them out—just keep them from getting in. Push them back, lightly if you can. Also..."
I wasn't really listening to the rest. I was staring out through the gun slit. Something felt off.
Among the enemy infantry, a few were holding oddly large rifles. Definitely not regular muskets. The shapes were too bulky, too thick.
Then—
I felt it.
A chill, like the Grim Reaper brushing the back of my neck.
I didn't need a second warning.
"Captain!" I shouted, backing away from the slit. "There are artillerymen mixed in with the infantry!"
"What!?"
The captain rushed over.
And the moment he looked, one of those enemy gunners took aim.
"Take cover!"
The roar came instantly.
A deafening blast, like thunder crashing in our ears.
"Uwaaaaah!?"
"Heeii!"
Stone cracked. Light poured in from the broken edge of the gun slit. Dust filled the air, glowing in the sunlight.
"W-What was that!?"
Someone shouted.
Still crouched low, I answered quickly.
"Handheld cannons! They're using handheld cannons!"
These oversized guns were designed for destruction. Their range and power were massive—far beyond normal muskets. Too heavy for close combat, but deadly from a distance. The gunners had to roll after each shot just to survive the recoil.
"The enemy mixed them in with the line infantry!" I yelled. "No wonder we couldn't spot their artillery!"
"Status! Report damage from each unit!" Captain Dumble called out.
"Three men down!" a Non-Commissioned Officer replied.
Three out of thirty. We were down ten percent already.
Luckily, the upstairs cannon was untouched. We loaded it with scatter shot and aimed at the infantry line to keep the enemy gunners from firing again.
But one cannon just wasn't enough.
"The infantry needs to push back! Don't let those gunners get closer!" the captain shouted.
Their fire wasn't hitting hard here yet, but if we just stood still, they'd eventually destroy our gun sights and cannons too.
But then—
"Damn, I can't aim!"
"Guh!?"
Another soldier was hit.
The gun slit had widened from the blast, making it harder to defend and harder to shoot.
The enemy gunners kept firing, slowly moving in. They were around 80 meters away now.
At 50 meters, they opened concentrated fire on our gun slits.
"Whoaaa!?"
"This is bad!"
Our infantry ducked down immediately. The openings had become death traps.
"Captain! We can't return fire! They're shooting too much!" the NCO shouted.
"Don't aim!" Captain Dumble replied sharply. "Just hide and stick the guns out—fire blindly if you have to!"
It was no use.
Their fire density was overwhelming.
We only had ten gun slits. Even a perfect volley might take out ten enemies. Realistically, even one was lucky.
They had hundreds.
We were chipping away while they kept the pressure rising.
I dropped down beside the captain and whispered.
"Captain, if this keeps up, we'll be wiped out."
"But we can't just sit here and let them through either," he whispered back.
"I don't think they're trying to climb the walls. They're only shooting. They can't break through with muskets or even those hand cannons."
"I see... so it's a pressure tactic."
"Exactly."
The east wall had fewer defenses—no moat, fewer cannons, barely any slits.
It was the weakest spot in the whole fort. But scaling the wall would be tough.
Medieval walls were too high, and without proper siege weapons, climbing was the only option.
But if they weren't climbing... they must be heading somewhere else.
The castle gate.
A direct charge from the south would put them in range of our western tower's cannons.
Any approach from that angle could be wiped out in a single barrage.
But the east wall was different.
If they advanced along it, they could reach the gate without being exposed to the tower's line of fire.
There was no moat.
No breach point either—but the hand cannons could blast through the gate itself once they got close enough.
Smart.
They weren't just brute-forcing their way in. They were using speed and range.
I turned to the captain.
"Captain, I think they're trying to silence the eastern gun slits, then move along the wall and strike the gate. From that angle, the defensive tower can't hit them."
He let out a long sigh, then gave me a grin.
"Everything's just as you predicted. I'm glad I listened to you."
"There's still hope," I nodded.
We'd hurt them badly in yesterday's fight. They were avoiding the west on purpose.
Attacking along the east was their way of staying out of cannon range.
It made sense on paper—and they were trying it now.
The real battle starts from here.
Notes:
• Dumble - Male. Garrison commander of Zephyr Fortress. Experienced and cautious. Wears standard officer attire. Initially skeptical of the 6th Special Task Brigade but is persuaded by Euner's demonstration. Becomes more cooperative afterward.