Iron Fist was stunned. He stared at the crude camp in the wooded hills ahead. It was like a giant cockroach nest: he had only brought his men over to make a little noise outside and test the waters, and the enemies inside had scattered in every direction. The great, dark mass of them was honestly a little frightening.
He had pursued them here without expecting to accomplish much. He had only wanted to shout and draw the people inside out, to see how many enemies the camp held. He had never imagined they would actually run away!
Since they were running, why hold back?!
Without a second thought, Iron Fist led his men in a charge, yelling at the top of his lungs as they stormed into the camp.
Nobody resisted. The soldiers in their ragged uniforms either fled in another direction at the sight of the players or threw down their weapons, dropped to both knees, and raised their hands high in surrender.
The ones running away were no trouble. It was the ones surrendering to the players who gave them a fright.
There were simply too many surrendering soldiers, while the players numbered only seven or eight-not even double digits.
"For the Republic!!!"
An NPC who looked like an officer shouted as he rushed out from among the kneeling soldiers, saber in hand, and charged straight at Iron Fist, who was in the lead.
Bang!
The player beside Iron Fist raised a Flintlock and fired at the officer. The shot tore through the tense air, and the officer... did not fall.
The officer felt himself up and down, then, overjoyed, continued charging.
"Fuck, you missed!"
Cursing, Iron Fist raised his longsword and strode forward to meet the officer. They immediately clashed, sparks flying amid a chaotic ringing