"Load Scatter Bombs!"
Violet hadn’t yet managed to create a prir with sufficient sensitivity for her ammunition, but she had no problem producing paper cartridges as a satisfactory alternative. The Marines quickly bit open the bottom of the paper cartridges, pouring a pinch of gunpowder into the pan of their flintlocks. They then shoved the entire paper cartridge down the muzzle, using a ramrod to pack it tightly. The paper casing also helped push any residual gunpowder from the barrel walls down to the breech. Finally, they flipped open the pan covers, ready to fire.
This small improvent to the ammunition allowed even elite human musketeers to achieve a rate of fire of five to six shots per minute. Furthermore, when fired, the paper casing helped seal the gap between the barrel and the projectile, enhancing its power. Paper, however, wasn’t exactly cheap at the ti.
The Marines had just loaded their "Deck Cleaners" with ammo and taken formation when the dozens of red dots on the tactical map burst through the underbrush and into their view.
A chorus of low, guttural grunts reached them.
They were dozens of huge, pitch-black wild boars, nearly as tall as a man. Each possessed a pair of Ruby-like crimson eyes. Their bodies were made of the sa inferior black pottery as the small piggy banks, though obviously of a much stronger composition. Their protruding snouts and tusks were coated with a black glaze, shining with a cold, tallic hardness.
Byron had no doubt that being struck by such a herd of piggy banks would an instant death, and he’d be robbed of all his spare change. What was most disturbing were the distorted human faces that appeared on the broad, door-sized flanks of these "adult money pigs," as if several people had been sealed alive inside when the pottery was fired.
In the Transcendents’ Spirit Vision, they could even directly hear the wails of the Dead Souls trapped within, crying out, "Small change, small change! Not a single copper coin can be lost!"
"Fire! All of you, into my pocket!"
The distance between the two forces was too short for volley fire, so Byron ordered concentrated fire.
Artillery Expert Wayne Dote fired the first shot. He hefted a heavy musket. With a fierce pull of the trigger, the inherent inaccuracy of the smoothbore weapon couldn’t hinder the aim of this Artillery Expert and eagle warrior.
The one leading the charge at the front of the pig herd was hit. A hole the size of a teacup instantly blew open between its eyes, and then, like a clay pot struck hard, cracks spiderwebbed out, splitting its black pottery body from head to tail. It crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces and bursting into an even brighter shower of silver.
This was followed by a devastating volley of hot iron shot. None of the dozen or so money pigs in the front row survived. Instead of blood, they spilled countless silver coins from their shattered bodies. The money pigs behind them trampled over the ground, now ankle-deep in silver coins, and continued their charge.
With such a short distance between them, the Marines had no ti to reload. The other Transcendents in the team took decisive action.
Close-combat specialists like Eight Fingers and Alfred engaged in brutal, close-quarters combat, trading blow for blow.
"HRAAAGH, DIE!"
Bruh, clad in full Heavy Armor, gripped his heavy steel shield and roared. He suddenly invoked the Sun Holy Sword, transforming his iron-hard, resilient will into brilliant sunlight. His armor and shield beca infused with this light, causing him to shimr brilliantly. With a mighty stomp, he counter-charged. With irresistible force, he smashed the money pigs charging at him into dust and a shower of silver coins.
Jacqueline spread her arms as if standing center stage at an art academy. Her voice soared, hitting a series of high-pitched, dolphin-like notes. She quickly adjusted the frequencies, focusing them into a line directly in front of her.
CRACK!
With a single sonic Bomb, two adult money pigs began to vibrate intensely. They held on for barely a breath before shattering into piles of gravel.
Gus, anwhile, had elevated his Illusion Technique to a new level. With a snap of his fingers, the Phantom Blade transford into a 6-pound Bronze Cannon—the upper limit of his own presence reserve. Though small in caliber, this cannon packed a serious punch. A muzzle flash erupted, and the cannonball it fired blasted a clear path forward, ruthlessly obliterating everything in its way.
The last three money pigs, led by the largest of them all, charged furiously toward Byron and Violet.
There was no need for Violet, the only Third Order Transcendent on the team, to act personally.
Byron flicked his wrists, and two exquisite yet brutally effective firearms appeared in his hands. Simultaneously, he intoned the inscription: "Thorny Rose!"
Upon the surfaces of his silver-white dual guns, rose patterns quietly blood as the Alchemy formula activated. Wielding both firearms, he unleashed a crimson barrage that resembled a field of roses in full bloom. Without even needing their auto-tracking ability, six Scatter Bomb rounds and six regular bullets from his dual guns instantly blew the last money pigs to smithereens.
Shiny silver coins rained down everywhere.
Witnessing this, the mbers of the Adventure Team all lowered their firearms, standing dumbfounded, montarily forgetting what they were supposed to do next.
Gus’s eyes lit up. "Even though silver is far less valuable than gold, quantity makes a difference! The silver coins here must weigh at least several dozen tons, right? lted down, it would be more than enough to cast a dozen or more 32-pound cannons from pure silver! I have to do this at least once, brothers!"
With that, he couldn’t resist leaping into the river of silver coins still flowing around them, rolling gleefully from side to side.
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