The final volley went out at twenty yards, and Beorn tracked the timing as the front rank fired. The air between the line and the pack filled with bolts, a dense spread that should have reduced numbers before impact.
Several monsters folded mid-stride, their front legs collapsing under momentum, and their bodies hit the road hard enough to disrupt those behind them, pulling the following monsters sideways.
That helped, but it wasn't enough. Most of them still crossed the remaining distance, and the men who had fired had less than two seconds to transition before contact.
The sound was dull, heavy, and wrong in many ways. The front rank buckled in three places at once.
"Hold the line!" Harr's voice cut through the noise with intent. He was already on the nearest break, pushing his own man back into position with both hands, then drawing his sword in a single motion.
