A rapidly spinning stone sphere flew past the Old Warlock, carrying a fierce momentum as it smashed into the densely packed crowd of rioters.
The scene was utterly gruesome; mangled flesh and bones were mixed together, creating an immense shock for anyone who witnessed it. No matter who they were, seeing a comrade who was just fighting alongside them turn into a bloody mess the next moment was enough to drive the faint-hearted insane.
The rioters wavered. So many of their companions had died, and they had experienced such a brutal situation. Only the presence of fanatics scattered among them barely maintained their organization, allowing them to continue fighting, but their morale was still on the verge of collapse.
"perun above! What in the world is going on?"
The Old Warlock's words were filled with bewilderment. Why was there suddenly an attack from another direction? Had those weaklings from Vladimir Palace finally made a move?
Then came the fear. That thing had just flown past him; if it had been even slightly off, he would have become a pile of minced meat just like those people.
With questions in his heart, the Old Warlock looked in the direction from which the attack had come. He saw a ballista, with several Greeks operating it, but the critical danger wasn't there; it was the warriors charging down from beside the ballista.
It was a group of armored warriors, their armor gleaming silver in the firelight. Leading them was a slender figure on a black warhorse, their face concealed by a chainmail veil, making it impossible to tell who they were. Around this person, soldiers whose faces were also covered by chainmail veils guarded them.
"Which young master brought out his family's personal guards?" the Old Warlock subconsciously thought. In his view, that slender figure was most likely a child; he didn't even consider if it was a woman.
"Followers of perun, go stop the pagans!"
The Old Warlock roared, calling for the last of his forces to enter the battle. The nearly one hundred followers remaining by his side were handpicked from his subordinates and the rioters; they were the most fanatical believers, willing to sacrifice their lives for the gods.
Originally, this force was intended to deliver a fatal blow to the stubbornly defending Christians inside Saint Sophia Cathedral, but now it seemed they could only be used to block the suddenly appearing enemies.
The Old Warlock took out the last of the Perrun Secret Medicine and unhesitatingly sprinkled it among them. These simply dressed followers immediately had bloodshot eyes, but at the same time, some vomited blood and collapsed. These followers were of mixed quality, and it was normal for some to be unable to withstand the effects of the Perrun Secret Medicine.
Watching the scene of frenzy below, the Old Warlock frowned. A full third of the people had collapsed, which was due to the crudeness of his ritual.
Wolfskin Warriors usually performed extensive preparations before taking the Perrun Secret Medicine, including applying protective pigments, gradually inhaling powder, and finally inhaling smoke that required long preparation. This ensured the safety of the process and prevented severe after-effects, but now, with time being critical, there was no other option.
The will of the frenzied followers was now dominated by ferocity; their minds were filled only with slaughter, and slaughter drove them to charge at the attacking enemies.
"This should hold them for a while," the Old Warlock breathed a sigh of relief. Then he looked towards Saint Sophia Cathedral, intending to see the situation there, but with one glance, he saw countless fleeing rioters and the defenders chasing and slaughtering them from behind.
"Damn it!" The Old Warlock slapped his head. He had been too tense just now and had forgotten that the situation here was also extremely dangerous!
He had to escape. But just as the Old Warlock was thinking of fleeing, he suddenly felt a blow to his chest, followed by an incomparable sharp pain.
The Old Warlock knew his heart had been struck. In the final moments before death, the Old Warlock used all his strength to turn around, wanting to see the person who had killed him.
Then he saw a slender figure on a black horse, slowly lowering a strange weapon. Although the Old Warlock had never seen this thing before, his intuition told him that this was what had killed him. This was his last thought, and then darkness enveloped his vision.
"No!"
The burly men carrying the perun divine emblem cried out in grief, their faces filled with despair. The omnipotent person they worshipped had died just like that; how could they not collapse? And with the death of the warlock, the core of the pagan group known as the "Wolves" also died, and the method for preparing the powerful and dangerous Perrun Secret Medicine was lost forever.
--------
"Oh, I hit him."
Zoe lowered her crossbow, her voice full of surprise. Although she had practiced crossbow skills, she had only shot animals at most; killing a person was her first time.
Killing for the first time made Zoe feel a little nauseous, but it was only a little. The impact of killing someone from such a distance was limited.
"Congratulations, Your Highness."
The usually taciturn eunuch guard spoke at this moment, then handed over a crossbow that had already been strung, so their mistress could continue shooting.
If one were to ignore the surrounding scene, one might even mistake this for a noble's hunting scene in the imperial capital: a servant presenting a bow to their master, the master effortlessly drawing the string and shooting. Such elegant and composed scenes were not uncommon in Constantinople, but this was Kiev in the north.
Even Zoe had this illusion; she recalled her few hunting experiences in the imperial capital.
In front of Zoe, Ross Warriors were wildly hacking and slashing through the enemy ranks, severing head after head.
Although these followers were fearless of death, they had no coordination whatsoever, blindly crashing against the Ross's shield wall, only to be easily cut down.
Some even fought each other in the back, treating their comrades as enemies. These individuals, who had taken the secret medicine for the first time, simply couldn't control their urge to kill, and the hallucinations in their vision directly transformed their comrades into enemies.
Leo wheeled his horse into the enemy crowd, trampling enemies beneath his horse and wildly slashing left and right with his steel sword, cutting down these rioters before his horse. Many spears were thrust at him, but he parried them all.
At first, when they saw the bloodshot-eyed followers charging, the warriors treated them as formidable foes, but upon engaging, they realized these were actually just showy but useless opponents. They were indeed fearless of death, but they had no idea how to utilize that fearlessness in combat.
Seeing this, Leo bravely charged directly into the enemy lines, disrupting their rhythm and causing them to collapse sooner, which led to his earlier frenzied slaughter.
It was also at this time that the effects of the secret medicine dissipated. Instantly, those who had been fearless of death suddenly became weak-kneed and powerless; some even collapsed directly to the ground. The warriors seized the opportunity and slaughtered these enemies completely.