Zhang Biao watched the stronghold wall with a gloomy expression.
The defenders atop the wall had somehow multiplied like bamboo shoots after the rain, growing more numerous by the moment.
From the initial twenty or thirty people that could be counted with the naked eye, there were now densely packed ranks of over a hundred.
Every one of them fought bravely, advancing and retreating in perfect coordination. They were nothing like a disorganized mob.
What chilled him even more were the poison-coated bolts and the highly corrosive poison water.
And then there was that Daoist Priest who knew magic.
"Fire arrows!" Zhang Biao gritted out his order. "Burn them! Burn all their defensive equipment!"
The archers in the rear immediately abandoned their ordinary arrows and replaced them with fire arrows, whose heads were wrapped in strips of cloth soaked in lamp oil.
As the flames were brought near, the cloth strips instantly blazed up.
"Loose!"
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—!"
At the command, dozens of fire arrows dragged long tails of flame as they shot toward the stronghold wall like shooting stars.
The arrowheads precisely targeted the wooden wall, the battlements, and the several astonishingly powerful ballistae.
"Protect the ballistae!" Lin Yi shouted.
The Clones quickly covered the ballistae with wet blankets, but several fire arrows still struck the wooden components.
"Sizzle..."
Flames instantly shot skyward and rapidly spread along the wood grain.
"Water! Get water, quick!"
Several Clones came running with buckets and poured water over the burning areas.
The flames gradually died out amid the sizzling sound, but the ballistae's winding and adjustment progress was ultimately delayed by more than half.
Below, Zhang Biao sneered when he saw this. "Keep firing! Suppress them!"
The Arrow Rain struck again.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—!"
Dozens of fire arrows shot toward Daoist Priest Xuan