The commotion from the north also drew Ashur's attention, and he recognized the captain of his Personal Guard at a glance.
Although he could not make out what Mad was shouting, the sight of the endless enemy cavalry sent a buzz through Ashur's head before his mind seemed to explode. His eyes, fixed on the north, filled with disbelief, followed by a profound sense of helplessness.
The plunge from imminent victory to sudden disaster was truly difficult to accept. The unexpected blow left Ashur forgetting to issue his next orders.
The Easterlings who had been fighting fiercely for so long were likewise frozen by the cavalry's sudden appearance. They needed orders on what to do next, but only one thought filled Ashur's mind.
Why did that presumptuous, self-proclaimed king have so many cavalrymen? This was impossible. Impossible!
On the hard ground of the plain, cavalry galloping at full speed moved astonishingly fast. As Mad fled for his life, his figure grew ever clearer in Ashur's eyes. Then, in the midst of his desperate shouting, all his movements abruptly stopped.
An arrow shimmering faintly with blue light had pierced his chest. His instantly stiffened corpse fell straight from his horse and broke into several pieces.
The death of his guard captain instantly dragged Ashur out of his daze. His mind cleared, and he seemed to spot something even more terrifying. His pupils contracted as he hastily shouted, "Retreat!"
"My lord, we cannot leave! All my men are still up there!"
"My lord, if we run like this, how can we expect our tribespeople to keep trusting us when we return?"
Two warlords close to Ashur shouted at their commander from their chariots. They could not accept such an outcome, and in their haste, they did not even realize they had disobeyed