As a hail of arrows rained down on the convoy.
The first to fall was a guard. The arrow struck him squarely in the eye, embedding itself in his skull with a dull thud.
The guard barely managed to let out a choked scream before collapsing to the ground, as a stream of dark blood gushed from the empty socket of his eye.
Screams began to erupt—desperate and heart-wrenching. More arrows whistled through the air.
A burly man tried to stand up to give an order, but an arrow pierced his throat, silencing him before he could utter a word.
Blood gushed out as he choked on his own blood, clutching the wound with his hands in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.
Another woman, who had run to hide, was struck by an arrow in the back. The arrow pierced her chest, tearing through her flesh and ribs. She fell to her knees, her arms trembling, trying to breathe amid gushes of blood, until she collapsed.
Amid all the chaos, a shout rang out:
"Bandits! We're under attack by bandits!"
