Ragnar crossed his arms, his eyes tracking the terrifying descent of a five-ton rifled cannon. Suspended in mid-air by braided steel cables, while directly beneath it, hundreds of shackled Tang laborers threw their entire, emaciated body weight against the stabilizing guide ropes.
Lifting this apocalyptic beast required the deployment of Ragnar's newly invented, high-pressure steam cranes. If a single iron gear slips, five tons of raw industrial death will crush those captive eastern laborers into a fine, bloody paste. And after all, what is the point of forging invincible weapons if you cannot load them onto your ships?
Biting his cracked lower lip until the sharp taste of his own blood filled his mouth, the captive Chinese logistics administrator, Master Lin, waved his directional signal flags with frantic, highly erratic motions, his knees physically knocking together in terror.
