At the manager's command, the Acolytes manning the artillery armaments unleashed hell.
Fire-essence–infused energy blasts roared from the cannons, streaking across the field in incandescent arcs. The front of the tide collapsed instantly, monsters dying in droves.
Gargoyles were torn from the sky, their stone bodies cracking apart as they hit the ground.
Wood tigers were blown open by raw power, torsos erased by concentrated essence lasers.
Giant rats, evil pixies, and sabre wolves were caught in overlapping bombardments, roasted and scattered as the wall thundered nonstop.
The Acolytes didn't hold back.
Yet even as bodies piled up, the tide kept coming.
Their numbers were absurd, so dense that the dead became little more than a buffer, trampled underfoot as the mass surged forward in quick, reckless movements.
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
"Fire the Dread-Hammer!"
