Compared with Xue Yunfeng, who could only roll around on the ground, Perfect Baldhead's performance was flawless.
His movements were crisp, and his reactions were quick. After catching the long arrow, he curled his small body beneath his shield and shouted for the knights around him to pile a few more shields on top.
The second arrow fired by the Hobgoblin commander was just as ineffective.
But this one was clearly no Spellbreaker Arrow. It was a dark-magic arrow, and the topmost shield had visibly corroded away... Demon Sword's wail confirmed it.
A dozen or so knights had thrown their shields onto Perfect Baldhead almost simultaneously. Somehow, Demon Sword's had landed last.
The titles that had circulated among the Undead for so long—Fate's Low Point and Beshaba's Beloved—were well deserved.
Perfect Baldhead calmly pushed aside the pile of shields, gave the Hobgoblin halfway up the mountain a thumbs-down in response to his cold stare, then turned helplessly to Demon Sword, who lay on the ground clutching his shield and wailing. "I'll pay to repair your shield... If it can't be repaired, I'll cover half the cost of a new one. You're something else. You were right beside me and still managed to be last."
Light laughter rippled through the crowd... Even in the thick of battle, watching someone else's bad luck did wonders for the mood.
Xue Yunfeng turned his head. "Yuluo, have you counted how many Goblins have died?"
"Almost a hundred million." Rainfall on the Mortal Realm, who had been darting across the battlefield, had appeared beside them at some point.
He had probably kept moving because he was afraid the Hobgoblins would target him for a surprise attack. Now this spot was safer. Snow Old Dog and Baldhead had both drawn more attention than he had.
"That