Just then, alarm bells rang out. A lone rider galloped back, shouting continuously.
"Enemy Attack! Enemy Attack!"
It was one of the Guards sent out to scout... Yet, something ominous appeared to be following him.
Soon, a group of ordinary people who looked like refugees appeared on the old road, carrying an assortment of crude weapons. Mixed among them were some unusual enemies.
They were bare-chested, wearing strange black iron helmets and wielding iron claws.
These are Heretics! And the Elite kind, no less!
Vick, realizing the situation, had no time for other concerns. He quickly strode to his horse, mounted, and charged forward, shouting, "Quick! Form up and prepare to meet the enemy!"
The others looked around, somewhat bewildered, but at his command, they moved according to their training.
Sure enough, Vick soon noticed that the Heretics rushing down the old road were smeared with fresh blood, a clear sign they had already begun their slaughter.
