Van was almost done hauling this batch of iron balls, this was probably his second to the last trip up the ramparts.
During his task, he wasn't able to contain himself and tried peeking out the battlements a few times.
Being a young kid from a mountain village in eastern Bosilia, he really didn't know how to take in, and or how to explain what he was seeing.
Several rows of people, wearing the same attire, are holding long sticks.
Adjacent to them are groups of men surrounding a handful of iron tubes, similar to the cannons placed on their ramparts.
Yet theirs are almost half less in size, some are even much smaller, but with wheels attached to its sides.
Lastly, the enemy has more of those iron tubes, the soldiers call guns, much more than they have here in the fortress.
Furthermore, more than half of their huge guns are currently on the other side of the fortress, pointed in the opposite direction.
Van ultimately stopped trying to make sense of the situation using his poor knowledge of almost anything there is.
'Let's quickly be done with this, and head back to the warehouse.' Van murmured to himself.
He remembers his uncle, telling him earlier to finish quickly and hide further in the fortress.
When suddenly, a continuous distant thunderous or sharp cracking sound resounded.
Followed by moderate shaking of the ramparts, and splintering of some parts of the walls.
The distant noises continued and intensified.
The stone wall then shuddered, and cracks appeared on it close to the highest steps of the stairway.
Van was petrified, he crouched down on the stone steps, he never felt anything remotely close to this.
The structure he was on is now shaking violently.
He looked behind him and saw the mean older man at the top of the stairway trying to steady his footing on his way down to where Van is.
Further behind the older man, the soldiers' faces working the cannon showed extreme disbelief.
One even uttered in a low voice, 'how can they be on target that far away?'
After several shooting exercises, the Bosilian soldiers knew their guns definitely can't reach that far, and hit its target, even in an elevated position.
They even placed camouflage markers on the ground to the farthest their cast-iron balls can reach.
Furthermore, to be at least 50 percent accurate, they needed to reduce their aim.
To have this tremendous gap in accuracy.
Thus finally explaining the incredible legend on how a medium-sized kingdom in the north-western edge of the Tevian continent swept several neighboring kingdoms in just a little over a decade.
Hunkering down, van remembered how just a week ago, he was standing in awe staring at the marvelous looking castle fortress.
Travelling down the mountain, it was his first time seeing a lot of things, and remembered how happy he was at that moment.
But now…
"Lad.."
"Lad!!" The older man called with a hint of impatience for the second time.
The man was trying to keep himself up yet his knees are clearly weak at the moment, eyes wide open, and cold sweat running down his cheek.
"Come help me down!" The man was waving Van to come over.
Even though Van himself is terrified, there is something about following orders, it's somehow firmly fixed deep into his being.
He feels like he needs to comply, and here he is, about to will himself to stand.
When, all of a sudden, the already cracked stone wall shattered and burst open.
The old man who was standing next to it was immediately torn to several pieces, his mangled body launched several meters away.
Everything happened in a flash, Van couldn't even react, and only staggered back leaning on the stairway wall.
Van didn't know what else to do, and was about to hunker down again, when a strong hand grabbed his shoulder.
"Unc…"
He turned and saw his uncle, but before he could finish his word, he was led by the other young man down the wall.
The pair manoeuvred through the chaos happening on the ground.
A number of people, both soldiers and non-combatants lay injured, some are screaming in pain, asking for help.
While some middle ranking soldiers were trying to maintain order by calling out commands.
At the same time, shattered stones flew down the walls occasionally hitting people off-guard.
After a couple of minutes, they finally reach the castle gate, but to their surprise it's closed, and a crowd is starting to form in front of it.
Without any explanation, Van was again towed to the side, in the eastern wall's direction.
. . . . . .
Grenn Pipe has a grim expression on his face.
Earlier, before the enemy guns went off, shook their western wall violently and covered the field with smoke.
He was certain, the enemy guns were still far from the range of their own guns.
Now, their western wall is being gradually carved, with almost half of their gun positions on the said side being hit, damaged and or even destroyed.
Grenn had been in sieges before, facing tribuchets, catapults, battering rams, and even giant crossbows.
What he's facing now is definitely on a different level of destruction.
While, Grenn Pipe is lost in his own thoughts, his personal guard came to his side.
"Lord.." The soldier made a form of salute, yet with a worried face.
Grenn Pipe, looking at the soldier's expression, felt a sense of impending trouble.
"Out with it!" He commanded.
"Lord Lawrence is sallying out to charge." The soldier then hung his head low, like a child waiting for a scolding.
"What!!!"
"His boy attendant came to report." The soldier added.
Grenn Pipe thought of the somewhat good-looking Brown-haired young man who leads their 350 strong heavy cavalry.
The previous local lord left his precious armed forces to contribute to the defense, though he was commanded by the duke, and was probably obliged.
His son, on the other hand, had a different idea and stayed. Likely, wanting to gain some great military achievements for himself.
"Heed my command!"
"...."
"F**k this!"
'I'lll go down there myself…'
Grenn Pipe shoved his men aside and walked purposely to the stairway.
However, he has only gotten one step on it when a loud cranking sound gone-off, a noisy mechanical sound.
The draw bridge is being set down.
'This can't be!'
It only took a few minutes for the bridge to be set down and for the whole cavalry to fully cross it.
Grenn Pipe can only stare with disbelief.
Though he was already an anointed knight when he was forty, Commander Pipe only truly became a full knight in the late fifties, and now a decade later, he's definitely past his fighting prowess.
Even in his prime, Pipe wasn't a great fighter, only a very decent commander.
Yet, he could never contend and contain the ego of these high-borns, who thinks the world owes them everything.