Almost everyone was wiped out in one round, with shrapnel wounds all over their bodies, lying on the ground wailing, as if their tenacity for life had become a curse at this moment.
One unlucky fellow was even hit in the head, dying instantly, which in some circumstances might be a blessing, at least he didn't have to suffer so much pain.
Gathering around the knight was naturally out of a psychological need for protection, no one expected it to become their shortcut to hell.
The knight, although experienced in slaughter, had only bullied ordinary people before; never did he imagine he would end up so miserably.
Yet in the brief moment of his shock, Hamlet's soldiers, under the cover of fire support, had already breached the first line of defense.
"Ah! Run for your lives!"
"Help me!"
The remaining small soldiers were scared out of their wits, some instinctively ran toward the fortress, not even considering resistance.
