Nevertheless they were factors of that same inexplicable action--for from thousands of gushing lights leaped thousands of gigantic square pillars; unimaginable projectiles hurled from the flaming mouths of earth-hidden, titanic mortars.
They soared high, swerved and swooped upon the lance-throwers.

Beneath their onslaught those chimerae tottered, I saw living projectiles and living target fuse where they met--melt and weld in jets of lightnings.
But not all.

There were those that tore great gaps in the horned giants--wounds that instantly were healed with globes and pyramids seething out from the Cyclopean trunk.

Ever the incredible projectiles flashed and flew as though from some inexhaustible store; ever uprose that prodigious barrage against the smiting rays.
Now to check them soared from the ranks of the besiegers clouds of countless horned dragons, immense cylinders of clustered cubes studded with the clinging tetrahedrons.

They struck the cubed projectiles head on; aimed themselves to meet them.
Bristling dragon and hurtling pillar stuck and fused or burst with intolerable blazing.