Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Dark crossbow arrows, one after another, pummeled the bridge deck.
The makeshift wooden shields, as if they were mere illusions, were easily penetrated.
Barbarian Soldiers without any armor fell in droves.
Nearly desperate, the Barbarian Soldiers charged forward with roars, their eyes filled with unwillingness and panic.
And then, they all fell at the sturdy base of the fortress.
Anger and unwillingness could not change the outcome.
It was clear that the small tribe across the river had almost been wiped out.
Ordering his Soldiers to clean up the corpses, Beelzebub was relieved that he and his people had been recruited by My Lord.
Otherwise, he might have met the same fate!
"The small tribes have been cleared out, now it's time for those middle-sized tribes."
Looking at the restless Barbarian Camp across the river, Beelzebub shook his head meaningfully and continued:
