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Inside the shell, Ambrose felt nothing but an overwhelming thrust. The shrill scream of air scraped against the mithril casing that enveloped him.
He was certain he was moving at supersonic speed, but had no way of being more precise than that.
Fortunately, he had replaced his body with one forged of mithril. Otherwise, the instant the shell left the barrel, his bones would have been pulverized into powder.
The projectile tore through the sky in a perfect arc, landing more than a hundred kilometers away.
Ambrose crawled out of the silver shell and examined himself.
There were a few minor malfunctions. Being fired out of a cannon was no gentle affair, and several internal components had loosened or warped.
But it wasn't a serious issue. He was running on dual cores now. Even a skeleton missing half its bones could function under the propulsion of dark magic. A few bent parts were trivial to fix.
He rose into the air to survey the terrain, recalculated his direction, and hauled out a second magitech...
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