Chapter 846 - 823 Battle Begins
When the vanguard of the undead army approached within a thousand feet of the city walls, a piercing whistle suddenly rang in Lancelot’s ears. The sound came from a signal arrow shot by a longbowman atop one of the watchtowers, its warning unmistakable.
"Stop, you lifeless undead!" Soveris’s loud voice came from the watchtower, "This is Raventown’s final warning. If you continue to advance, we will launch..."
"Hehehehe, what will you launch? Surrender perhaps?"
A chillingly sinister laugh echoed, and the undead army parted to reveal Peyton Derrick’s figure clad in a dark red robe, appearing before everyone’s eyes. The lich, with an air of disdain and distraction, was half-reclined on an enormous palanquin made of countless white bones. The palanquin resembled a festively adorned parade float, with extravagant and vulgar decorations, and was carried by dozens of skeletons on either side. As they advanced, the contraption looked more like some kind of giant multi-legged insect, sending shivers down one’s spine.
"I am the Master of Death, and also your rightful king." Peyton stood up, playing with a scepter adorned with several skulls (Lancelot noticed they were all shriveled old women’s heads), "Your disrespect is a mortal crime. Open the gates and surrender obediently, and perhaps I will spare your lives."
"You are truly too merciful, Your Majesty." Soveris replied sarcastically, "Raventown has been recognized as an independent barony since the time of your grandfather’s grandfather, King Carlos Derrick. We have no obligations to the king unless faced with foreign invasion. We appreciate your kindness, but please return. If you continue to advance, we will launch an attack!"
"Just as I wished." The lich settled back onto his overly large throne of bones, casually waving his hand, "Crush them."
The undead let out strange howls, charging forward like a breaking dam. The prepared defenders responded immediately. The residents of Raventown used longbows with a striking appearance. The bows stood taller than an average human male, and one end was pointed like a spear to anchor the bow in the ground. The arrows, nearly three feet in length, were made of some heavy black wood, with black fletching clearly indicating their avian origin.
In the sound of vibrating bowstrings, over two hundred heavy arrows were launched into the air, reaching their peak before descending steeply. Usually, arrows were ineffective against fleshless skeletons as they would ricochet off the hard bones, sliding through the gaps. But the residents of Raventown used specially crafted heavy arrows—their shafts were extremely heavy, the arrowheads made of metal shaped like short swords. Being hit by such an arrow traveling over two hundred feet per second was no joke. With the steep downward angle of descent, the arrows easily shattered the skulls and bodies of skeletons and zombies alike. Only the higher-level undead equipped with heavy armor and giant shields could barely withstand the barrage.