"Watch out! The arrows are poisoned!"
A soldier cried out in alarm.
Wherever the crossbow bolts struck, corruption immediately began to spread. The flesh swelled grotesquely as grayish-white corrupted tissue writhed beneath the skin. What had been nothing more than tiny puncture wounds rapidly became fatal injuries.
Large numbers of rebel soldiers screamed as the poison claimed their lives.
When they rose to their feet again, they had already been transformed into corrupted creatures.
"So the Corruption arrows really are effective."
Phield clicked his tongue in satisfaction.
"The trees growing within the Gray Mist are truly valuable. Burning them as firewood would have been such a waste."
The idea had come to him on a whim.
He never expected it to work so well.
Under the relentless barrage of firepower, the rebels below the walls could no longer endure the hellish battlefield.
They broke and fled.
