Atop Layan City's defensive tower, Scott lowered the Charged Rifle in his hands.
Though the air was full of damp water droplets, greatly reducing the Charged Rifle's power, killing a reconnaissance hawk would not have been a problem.
As long as the enemy dared to show themselves without making any preparations, they would surely die. But the problem was that they would not show themselves.
Gazing at the Mountain Folk position in the distance, still shrouded in mist, Scott frowned slightly.
Before the mist had risen, he had already observed the Mountain Folk's ranks.
Although the Mountain Folk troops now showed obvious signs of shattered morale while marching after the lightning strike and Ian's raid, the force centered around the Ascenders remained remarkably steady—the two Ascenders had gone after Ian, and the remaining one seemed injured as well. But precisely because of that, only one voice remained in the entire force.
Between an army with three brains and one with only a single core, at least when it came to carrying out orders, the latter was faster.
Just then, ten Mountain Folk emerged from the smoke at the distant position. Holding crude launch tubes, they fired black dots one after another toward Layan City's fortifications.
Beams from Charged Rifles struck the soldiers' helmets and armor, but a layer of damp grease softened the heat released by the luminescent ammunition. The soldiers were merely startled; two were burned, but none died.
And the dots they fired were not shells, but compressed smoke generators. Vast clouds of thick fog covered not only the Mountain Folk position, but Layan City's fortifications as well.
Now neither side could use precise long-range strikes.
"Do you need me to act?"
Adalbert stood beside Scott. Although Ian had not entrusted him with anything, this warmhearted Undead Monarch