He'd barely finished barking his command when three more pressurized fireballs plummeted like meteors onto the battlement, detonating this time in a densely populated area. The hapless recruits caught in the blast were instantly reduced to ash.
"Fuck! Mother of God...RUN!" A soldier cursed as he staggered away, his hand covering the right side of his smoldering, completely bald face. The flesh had almost entirely melted away, exposing the bone underneath.
A slightly more educated recruit lifted his dazed, oscillating eyes toward the sky. Catching sight of the sky filling with orange "shooting stars" on an unmistakably parabolic trajectory, his eyes widened like saucers, and he screamed at the top of his lungs,
"H-Holy crap! Grenadier Bugs! RUN!"
This second barrage, combined with the imminent approach of an even more devastating third volley, was the jolt needed to snap the fear-paralyzed recruits out of their stupor.
