The Paratu People had considered the possibility of the fortification being breached, so the walls facing the main camp were shorter and the ditches shallower.
But it was still a daunting construction, one that demanded lives to fill its depths.
Twenty steps forward, and another volley of arrows descended.
This time, Winters only heard a crisp snap; he wasn't afraid of arrows—he was waiting for the gunfire.
The entire Montaigne team was armored, some even wearing chain mail over their plate armor. Unless the arrows struck true by chance or by precise aim, they would not cause harm.
Less than ten meters from the ditch, Winters saw a flash of red light on the rampart wall in front of him.
"Shield up!" he bellowed instinctively, raising his shield.
A burst of gunfire, like popping beans, came from the ramparts.
"Clang!"
