In the center of the mercenary column, a tattered but still ferocious blood-red wolf-head banner fluttered in the wind. Beneath it sat a burly man with a scarred face, clad in iron-studded leather armor atop a mottled horse—Karl, the leader of the Blood Wolf Mercenaries.
Karl grinned, revealing yellowed teeth as he eyed the territory before him. Though somewhat barren, it was starting to take shape, and greed flickered in his eyes. "Listen up, boys! Faster! Take Blackstone Town, and the women and ale are all yours!"
His bandits responded with filthy laughter and howls, quickening their pace. Despite their previous setback, they clearly didn't respect this territory. To them, the last defeat was a fluke; now that their main force had mobilized, failure was impossible.
However, the moment the vanguard crossed the border, disaster struck.
"What is that?!" a sharp-eyed bandit pointed at the sky, his voice trembling with terror. Karl looked up, his pupils shrinking violently.
More than twenty sleek figures were diving rapidly from behind the clouds! Pegasi! Each beast carried a rider in leather armor, armed with a bow. Sunlight glinted off the white wings and the steel arrowheads.
At the head of the formation was Ed. "Fire!" he ordered, his voice cold and sharp.
Whiz! Whiz! Whiz!
The piercing sound of arrows filled the air. More than twenty bolts, like invitations from the Grim Reaper, struck the mercenary cavalry and infantry squares with lethal precision.
"Gah!" "My arm!"
Screams erupted instantly. Several leading riders were knocked from their horses, their crude leather armor failing to stop the shafts. The infantry lines buckled as men collapsed, and the momentum of the entire column ground to a halt in chaos.
The Pegasus knights didn't linger. After the successful strike, they pulled up sharply, circling back into the high clouds like hunting hawks, ready for the next dive.
"Damn it! Pegasus knights!" Karl roared in a mix of shock and rage. He hadn't expected Blackstone to form an aerial unit so quickly. "Archers! Return fire! Shoot those damn bird-men down!"
The bandit archers at the rear scrambled to unstring their low-quality bows, firing blindly into the air. However, their range was limited and their aim atrocious. The arrows wobbled upward, lost momentum at their peak, and fell back uselessly—some even landing near their own comrades, causing a frantic scramble and a chorus of curses. One bandit accidentally shot a companion in the backside, leading to a louder howl of pain.
"Useless! A pack of useless fools!" Karl turned pale with rage. He knew his mundane bows couldn't touch the agile aerial targets.
Ed watched the futile resistance from above. He didn't order a second volley immediately; instead, he kept the squad hovering as a constant threat. While the actual casualties weren't massive, the psychological blow was devastating. The bandits' arrogance vanished, replaced by an unsettling dread of an enemy they couldn't hit back.
"Don't panic! They're just flying rats!" Karl barked, trying to regain control. "They don't have the numbers to get close! Keep the formation and move! Once we're in the town, they'll be useless!"
Under the threat of Karl's blade and the shouts of his lieutenants, the bandits resumed their crawl. But every man kept one eye on the sky, his steps hesitant.
High above, Ed saw the movement. Leylo's strategy was clear: "When the enemy advances, we harass; when the enemy tires, we strike." Now was the time for harassment.
"Ready," Ed whispered. "Target the flag-bearers and the front-line leaders!"
The mercenaries had barely struggled forward another hundred meters when the "hawks" struck again. Twenty-plus riders dove silently like shadows of death.
Thwack! Thwack!
A tattered banner representing a minor chief went down as the bearer clutched his throat, blood gushing through his fingers. Several hardened bandits at the front, who were trying to maintain order, were struck down with surgical precision—arrows piercing necks or hearts.
Panic spread like a plague, more violent than before. "They're back!" "Take cover!" "We can't hit them!"
The column stalled completely, and signs of a total rout began to emerge among the ranks.