The scene was extremely chaotic.
But the Heretic Inquisition had people who served as messengers, so the orders were quickly relayed.
Then came the sound of a horn from behind them.
The spearmen immediately crouched low.
The young knights behind them, armed with crossbows, began pulling the triggers.
They might have been knights, but they didn't think crossbows were beneath them. They weren't those country bumpkin knights from neighboring Batonia.
Some of the wealthier ones even attacked with their own muskets.
A storm of bolts and bullets shot toward the front.
A few shots inevitably struck the spearmen at the very front.
But at least the dense barrage managed to slow the refugees' charge a little.
Taking advantage of that brief pause, the spearmen hurriedly retreated three steps, then reset their stance and prepared to fight again.
The rain of arrows had not only slowed the refugees down a little; it had also forced some of them to come to their senses.
Because they were afraid.
They were afraid of what lay behind them, too, but the cold spears and crossbow bolts before them were just as terrifying.
The problem was, they couldn't do anything about it.
Trapped in the middle of the crowd, they had been forced to calm down, but they had no way to escape.
Of course, a few were quick-witted—and, most importantly, lucky. They shoved their way through the crowd and ran in another direction.
With death on both sides, they chose a different option. Some of the slightly more sensible ones hid in the refugee camp. At the very least, in this situation, the wraiths would probably seek out places with more people, preferably charging straight at the church members and taking them down with them.
In short, these lucky and clever people chose to