"Thump thump thump—"
Amid the twanging of bowstrings, Zelaken couldn't help but blink, momentarily dazed by the dazzling reflection of the arrows.
But the next second, the other guards around him shouted loudly, "My Lord Count, watch out!"
Zelaken hadn't even had time to react before he felt a tremendous force hit his side, sending him flying sideways.
Two guards raised their shields, and the arrows flew off the edges of the iron-plated oak shields.
"Zing—" Zelaken heard a crisp metallic scraping sound, then felt a painful warmth in his right ear.
Instinctively, he touched his ear, opening his palm to find it covered in blood.
Realizing he had been targeted by the Salvation Army's longbowmen, Zelaken immediately crouched down, using the advancing phalanx next to him as cover.
The blazing sun scorched the air, twisting it.
In the blinding chill light, over two hundred arrows broke through the distortion, pouring down like a summer storm.
