Where had this Tyroshi army come from?!
And where had this army from Myr come from?!
Casimir roared, his voice trembling. He was on the verge of madness.
A crossbow bolt jutted from his back, its head lodged in a joint of his ornate plate armor. Every stumbling step sent a piercing stab of pain through him.
If not for that expensive armor, he would already have died in the ambush.
He had just come out of the Governor's Palace and listened to a panicked soldier report fires throughout the city, along with widespread rumors that the Tyroshi and Myrish had attacked.
Casimir had scoffed.
This was clearly the work of rats that had slipped through the net!
Those remnants of the purged Rogare faction and Hayne's followers wanted to make one last fuss before they died!
The city guard were utterly useless. They couldn't even handle something this trivial without interrupting Lord Casimir's pleasures!
He immediately selected a squad of roughly fifty guards from the Governor's Palace, intending to deal with the trouble himself and teach those petty thieves a lesson.
And then-
They rushed toward the burning warehouse district, passed through a narrow alley, and had barely rounded the corner.
A horde of hardened soldiers in plate armor crashed into them head-on, like a torrent of steel surging out of the darkness!
Casimir was stunned.
Had... Tyrosh and Myr really invaded? How had they broken through the defenses?! Where was the fleet?! Where was the Mercenary Company?!
In his panic, he only had time to shriek at his guards to hold them off before turning to flee.
Behind him came the deafening clash of metal, agonized screams, and... a heavy, cleaving blow that slammed into his backplate!
Bang!
The tremendous impact pitched him forward onto the ground. He