Before he could react, Jeanne's voice drifted over on the wind: "Fire!"
Four shotguns fired simultaneously, spraying fine iron sand, and the booming echoed through the blazing flames.
Lead bullets mixed with iron sand formed a barrage that loomed like dark clouds. The Knights at the front were instantly riddled, blood and shattered bones splattering everywhere.
Tom felt a sharp pain in his left arm. Looking down, he saw that the chain mail at his forearm had shattered, embedded with iron sand.
"Don't retreat, keep charging, it takes them a long time to reload!"
Despite the pain, Tom continued to charge forward with a roar, only to be knocked askew by a rider turning around in front of him.
The aftermath of the shotguns hadn't subsided, and the Knights fell off their horses like wheat swept by a storm.
By the time Tom reached the front of the barricade, fewer than forty of more than a hundred riders remained.
"Long spearmen, advance!" Jeanne's voice rang out again.
