Blood splattered.
A crossbow bolt pierced a Half-Drow's neck with pinpoint accuracy, its tip jutting out the other side.
A jet of blood spurted from the wound. The Half-Drow clutched her throat with both hands, making a muffled gurgling sound. She staggered a few steps before collapsing, her limbs twitching until they gradually went still.
Renato narrowed his eyes, carefully watching the movements on the battlefield.
He seriously doubted whether these so-called Mud Swamp mercenaries had received even a single day of formal military training.
Faced with the sudden attack, they panicked like a warren of startled rabbits. They neither mounted an effective counterattack nor retreated in good order, instead shoving one another and blocking each other's paths.
Even as their minor leaders, who seemed to serve as officers, screamed themselves hoarse trying to regroup them, the Mud Swamp mercenaries kept running about at random as though they could not understand a word.
As a result, the pursuing mercenaries cut them down in swathes like wheat. It was easier than slaughtering livestock.
"I surrender! Spare me, please-"
A Mud Swamp mercenary dropped to her knees and raised both hands high. Before she could finish, however, cold steel flashed, and a scimitar neatly severed her head.
Renato was very pleased with the quality of the Iron Price mercenaries. Apart from their somewhat lacking coordination-a problem common to all mercenary companies-their individual combat performance was highly seasoned.
Equipped with well-maintained, quality gear, even if it was not top of the line, their individual fighting prowess would have rivaled that of the professional soldiers of many Southern City-States, even on the surface.
What impressed Renato most, however, was the company's commander.
Raven did not stand at the rear barking orders. Instead, she carried her Double-Bladed Battle Axe and fought shoulder to shoulder with