But a heightened sense of alertness surged within Old Liu's heart.
He couldn't pinpoint why, but this cloaked woman gave him a nagging sense of unease, a feeling he was all too familiar with. It was the kind of natural bodily response one would have when facing a real adversary, surrounded and under threat.
A row of arrowheads, blazing with fire, emerged from behind the parapets. Each goblin archer wore a relaxed smile, one typically reserved for the victorious.
It was a bold, hearty smile, reserved for those in control of life and death.
These fire arrows weren't aimed at Liu, but at the red liquid splashed across the ground from the smashed giant gourds. The snow was stained with spots of this red liquid, some of it even splattered on Liu.
