At the same time, on the bridge.
Many black armoured enemies wailed as they fell down under the arrows of their fellow soldiers. Like the saplings under the axe of a lumberjack, they were instantly shot down without any resistance. Blood spilled everywhere and the sounds of wailing and crying were louder than the whizzing of the current. The lethal arrows pierced through the enemy soldiers’ eyes, thighs, heads, chest, and feet…… Some severely injured, but not yet dead soldiers wailed as they tried to crawl back to their base, dragging along with them a long trail of blood.
The bridge became a literal hell.
Further away, the silver masked knight stood on a hill on the south bank of the Zuli River and watched everything tensely. The blood, wailing and cursing of his own soldiers entered his vision and ears, but were filtered out instantly. The only thing that he cared about was the figure.
But what made him angry and scared at the same time was that after the first round of arrow rain, the monster that was fully armoured and covered in blood all over his body was swinging his sword and circular shield. He was struggling to block the arrows, but he wasn’t injured fatally.