My nephew had gone off for extra lessons, my dad and mom had gone to the market fair, and my older sister and brother-in-law had gone off to who knew where...
Fed and watered, after spacing out for a while, it was time to keep writing!
On the street, only Bei Ya's heart-rending cries could be heard. Amid his ugly wailing, those young nobles cursed like street thugs, brandishing their weapons as they charged at Wood and the others.
They were nobles. They were nobles. They were nobles!
They had been pampered from birth, of noble blood, born into wealth and glory. They were young, unrestrained, passionate; the Hundred-Year Land-Island War of over forty years ago had nothing whatsoever to do with them. All they had to do was enjoy the merits their forebears had won in war, reveling in the lofty positions and honors that had fallen into their laps.
So for Wood to dare kill Bei Ya's mount, to dare defy Bei Ya's orders, was an unforgivable crime.
A commoner, a newcomer who had only just joined the Dragoon Legion, a lucky upstart who had suddenly risen from an ordinary citizen to a Dragoon colonel—what right did he have? What gave him the nerve? So kill him. Cut him down like a stray dog. Snatch the assassin from his hands, then go teach that fellow called Ente Malte a harsh lesson.
They saw Wood raise his hand, but they paid it no mind. Did this fellow really dare offend so many nobles at once?
But Wood's men truly fired their crossbows. More than a hundred powerful bolts came whistling through the air, and each of the thirty-odd noble officers charging forward received an average of three to five arrows. They were only twenty-odd meters apart; there was