The corpse hit the ground. After a moment of stunned silence, the artisans at work cried out and screamed.
"An assassin!"
"There's an assassin!"
"Lord Kirk has been assassinated!"
Amid those panicked, terrified cries, the artisans fled in every direction.
Pride stood where he was without stopping them.
These artisans were not his targets.
Looking down at the head in his hand, a flicker of understanding crossed Pride's haughty face.
"So that's how it is!"
"No wonder my original self changed the plan!"
"But..."
Whoosh!
The suspicion forming in his mind did not make Pride lower his guard. The moment an arrow whistled through the air, he sidestepped.
Thud!
With a dull impact, an arrow made entirely of refined iron embedded itself in the wall behind Pride.
Not only did nearly half the arrow sink into the wall, leaving a large crater, but cracks also spread outward from it.
An arrow like that far surpassed an ordinary bullet. Only certain large-caliber sniper rifles could compare.
And if it struck a body?
It would probably tear the victim apart on impact.
Pride, however, remained unmoved.
He looked haughtily at Horace, who emerged with a bow in hand, and the squad of roughly thirty archers behind him.
Horace had fired the previous arrow.
Now, the thirty archers had drawn their bows to full draw, all their arrows aimed at him.
"Ryan?!"
Horace stared at Kirk's headless corpse on the ground in shock and fury. When he saw the head dangling from Pride's hand, he roared, "Fire!"
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
Like a summer downpour, the arrows engulfed Pride in an instant.
The arrows were densely packed and powerful. Though only thirty men had fired, it felt like a volley from three hundred.
A black greatsword appeared in Pride's hand, shielding him.
**Clang,