"Aim well and shoot hard," she replied, her voice steadying as she felt the weight of the projectiles. "It's as simple as that." Without another word, she unsheathed her bow, notched an arrow, and unleashed a whistling streak of fire into the fray.
As the girls began their desperate stand, William carved a path of ruin toward the fortress. He moved with a singular, grim focus.
He knew that if he spent days methodically slaughtering the masters in the courtyard, he would achieve nothing.
This fortress was a hub; its existence implied dozens of portals linked to various corners of the world, all feeding this central staging ground.
If he stayed here, he would merely be moving the "slaughterhouse" from Lara's city to the foot of this fortress. The body count would rise, but the flow would never stop, and the overall course of the war would remain unchanged. He had to be more surgical.
