The storm of attacks descended without mercy. Arrows pierced through the air in dense waves. Their sharp whistles overlapped into a continuous shriek as they rained down upon Red's army.
At the same time, magical attacks followed right behind them. Fireballs tore through the front lines, beams of condensed Ether slammed into clustered groups, and streaks of light carved across the battlefield with brutal precision.
The impact came instantly.
Men at the front didn't even have time to react. Their bodies jerked violently as arrows pierced through armor and flesh while others were swallowed by explosions of fire and light, their bodies thrown back or simply erased under the overwhelming force.
Screams erupted everywhere.
Some of them tried to raise their weapons or attempted to form defenses too late because Red didn't give them any orders. So, against a coordinated barrage like this from above, hesitation meant death.
One by one, they died.
