Moving quickly through the grass, spears and boots constantly clashing with reeds, Tasjin stumbled as if he would lose balance the very next second.
Yet in this chaotic run, others behind him fell behind, tumbling into the water, while he stepped firmly on solid ground.
The sound of whistling cannonballs came once more, Tasjin looked up just in time to see a shadow flicker by, then behind him, mud and dirt splattered like rain.
Feeling the pain of being struck by mud and stones on his back, Tasjin jerked his neck in fear, but gritted his teeth and continued sprinting.
Among the reeds, over a hundred mercenaries sent forward for reconnaissance fled desperately, bullets spraying behind them, while cannonballs kept falling overhead.
Every two or three minutes, a water column or mud column would rise from the puddles and marshes beside them, forcing soldiers who had initially slowed down to leap forward a few more steps.
