One of the mercenaries Marquis Valeire hired looked at what was happening all around him. He was just outside the walls, and he saw dozens of men die within a few seconds.
He could not comprehend what was happening right before his eyes. What were those unknown weapons that are causing devastating damage to their ranks?
"What is this?!"
This was supposed to be an easy job. An army of twenty thousand against five thousand. They said there was no way they would lose.
Now, most of those in his mercenary band have died, and only the aura users remain. It was at this moment that his fight or flight response kicked in, and he started running in the opposite direction.
He ran without thinking about honor, pay, or even the men who had marched beside him only minutes ago. The battlefield behind him had become something unrecognizable, and every instinct in his body screamed that staying meant death.
