Clip-clop, clip-clop—!
The urgent sound of hooves shook the earth like a war drum.
Haskell, the captain of the Snow Swearers, suddenly looked up, his gaze as sharp as a wolf's, staring intently at the swirling dust in the distance.
That wasn't the sound of fleeing horses, but the uniform clatter of iron riders!
They have arrived.
The next moment, the neighs of warhorses pierced the smoke, and crimson figures rushed out from the dust.
The armor of the Red Tide Knights reflected a cold brilliance in the sunset, like a sharp sword slashing out from the abyss!
"Warriors, form the line!" Haskell suddenly raised his war axe and growled lowly.
The Snow Oath Warriors quickly mobilized, raising their shields, thrusting their spears, gripping their war axes at an angle, their eyes filled with vigilance, sweat sliding down their foreheads.
But the Red Tide Knights gave them no time to breathe!
Swoosh!
The air was torn apart, sharp javelins and arrows rained down like a sudden storm!
