Juna crouched above the mountain cut and counted the reinforced freight carts advancing along the road below her.
Far below, the muffled clatter of wagon wheels echoed through the narrow gorge like distant thunder in the fog.
Six heavily reinforced freight carts advanced along the sunken road, engulfed in dense clouds of acrid sulfur smoke.
Her sharp wolf senses immediately pierced through the artificial fog, distinguishing the subtle creak of wood and harness leather.
Five of the carts bristled with armor plating and repeating crossbows, but the third vehicle was an ordinary civilian hay wagon.
The Choral escort intentionally sandwiched the innocent teamsters between their war engines, using civilian lives as living shields against long-range spells.
"Cowards," she growled under her breath, her lupine ears flattening against her silver hair with furious indignation.
'They think hiding behind farmers will stop me from taking their heads.'
