On the city wall, rows of Soldiers had already formed up.
Archers had drawn their bows and nocked their arrows, the tips already aimed in their direction. The sharp arrowheads glinted coldly in the sunlight.
Two ballistae were also wound, their arm-thick Crossbow Arrows pointed right at him and the gasping, routed soldiers behind him.
Furthermore, two Purple Zombies and dozens of Black Corpses stood atop the wall. A dense, suffocating aura of corpse energy radiated out from them.
And standing at the very front was Marcus, the same centurion who had fled in disgrace before.
At this moment, he was looking down on Blue Crow from his high vantage point, a cold smile playing on his lips.
"Fire!"
Marcus swung his right hand down.
WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH~!!
A volley of arrows rained down.
The dozen or so Soldiers charging at the front were instantly turned into pincushions, screaming as they fell.
SWOOSH—BOOM!
