Attack

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

The crossbow bolts shot out like flying birds, pinning down the hunters on the stockade wall. Nearly ten Dog-kin warriors were struck by arrows and fell from the heights, dragging out shrill screams. Then came a series of bangs from the mountain rocks, and the screams cut off abruptly.

"Ah! The Mexica bows are this powerful even when shooting upward!"

Alan anxiously crouched low, hiding in the corner between the mountain wall and the stockade. Deadly crossbow bolts shot over her head, then fell into the camp behind her with thunking sounds as they bit into wood; now and then came the wails of the wounded. She clenched her hunting bow uneasily, her mouth terribly dry. Though she had grown used to small-scale fighting and had hunted down more than a dozen warriors from hostile tribes with her own hands, this was her first time taking part in a battlefield of over ten thousand people.

"Alan, it's fine! This spot is good. As long as you hide well, the Mexica arrows can't reach you. Once their warriors charge up, the arrows will stop!"

The young Militia Chipawa comforted her in a low voice. Alan turned her head and saw that Chipawa had already nimbly lain flat behind the wall. He had set his long spear crosswise by his feet and was pushing a huge round mountain stone with his hands, peering down through the gap between the wall and the stone. Then he let out a tense, low cry.

"They're coming up!"

"Dong, dong! Dong, dong!"

Fervent war drums thundered to the sky, rousing the warriors' spirits and passing down the order to charge! Two thousand Otopan Warriors raised their Large Shields high, split into several lines front and back, and charged the stockade wall in sequence.