Vincent felt cold as he watched the distant castle walls. He refused to deal with arrows raining down on him.
"Well, whatever…"
His feet pushed through the snow, the molten heat making him feel better. Arctic winds slammed against his back, making flight difficult as he retracted his feathered wings.
—|Vincent: 'Silvari, how many archer are standing on those walls?'
She took a moment to respond, as she wanted to check fully.
—|Silvari: 'Master, there are around twenty archers and ten warriors.'
"Hmm…"
His eyes narrowed, having no other choice. He could only assault them with a frontal attack.
Suddenly, his body dashed forward with a slight crunch of snow with each step. The archers seemed to have limited sight, but he couldn't worry about noise.
Or so he thought…