Hajin reached the broken furrow as a crossbow bolt split the stretcher pole a hand's width from his knuckles.
Seven workers huddled behind Ressa's shield and the wrecked surveying cart, pinned against its wheel by the bows.
"StarGuard!" he roared, throwing his palm up as he stepped between the road crew and the ridge.
Radiant ribs snapped together above the workers, and the next volley cracked across their curve.
He dragged the cover wider until it swallowed the carrying crew behind him, its forward edge locked firmly in place. Juna slid beneath it with her daggers drawn, while Loccy tapped her hammer beside every broken spike in the dirt.
The youngest survivor still clung to the shield, fingers jammed white beneath its bent rim.
"We're coming through, kid, keep your face in the mud until the stretcher reaches you."
Hans limped up behind the cart with fifty militia packed behind his spear, every one of them already facing south.
