At the southeastern border between Stahl and Luak, a chaotic scene was unfolding as hundreds of Luakian pursued a small cavalry troop of twenty men, racing toward the edge of a dense forest.
Agusa, the promising young archer under General Luther's tutelage, was at the head of the cavalry. His eyes darted between the forest ahead and the pursuers closing in behind. He waited for the perfect moment before shouting - "Turn!"
Agusa pulled the reins of his Snowfire Horse, and the cavalry turned around in unison, bows drawn and ready. In one smooth motion, he reached for the bow strapped on his back and knocked an arrow.
"Loose!" - Agusa barked, his fingers releasing the tension of the bowstring.
Twenty arrows flew through the cold air, finding their marks in the packed rank of the pursuers. Some fell dead immediately, while others collapsed in pain, clutching their wounds and screaming. However, their comrades didn't care and pressed on, trampling their fallen comrades.
