Hajin approached the river crossing while all thirty-seven armored retainers locked their shields across the gravel ford.
Thirty-seven veterans in blackened breastplates stood locked shoulder to shoulder along the line of pale boundary markers.
Behind them, seventeen auxiliary spearmen gripped their weapons with tense knuckles while watching the empty northern bank.
"They brought thirty-seven of Dreth's personal retainers to hold this gravel ford," Juna whispered from the nearby bluff, her scout bow lowered.
"Every single one of those front-line guards carries an ash-cord binding wired directly into their breastplates."
"That means any physical shock they take gets divided across their entire formation," Hajin noted calmly, checking his leather wrist wraps.
"They spent forty long years perfecting that turtle formation against the fierce border clans."
"Do you want me to rain wind spears from the ridge to scatter their shields?" she offered, her golden wings flexing behind her.
