Clop clop clop—!
Urgent hoofbeats thundered like war drums shaking the earth.
Snow Swearer captain Haskell jerked his grizzled head up sharply, his wolf-sharp gaze burning with predatory intensity as it fixed upon the distant rolling dust clouds that billowed and churned like angry storm fronts across the horizon. His weathered face, scarred by countless battles, tightened with grim recognition as his experienced ears parsed the sounds carried on the bitter wind.
Those weren't fleeing horses, but uniform cavalry sounds!
They were coming.
Next moment, warhorse neighing pierced the smoke as crimson figures charged from the dust.
Crimson Tide knights' armor reflected cold radiance in the setting sun, like sharp blades slashing from the abyss!
"Warriors, form ranks!" Haskell suddenly raised his battle axe, roaring.
