The Ability to Overwhelm - Part 4

It wasn't an order that came, however. It was impossible to call it as such. He'd berated his men, with his voice laced in Command, and that was as far as General Zilan had gone – he was already back in his saddle, weighing down that horse of his.

However, the results… The results ought not to have been what they were. He'd done nothing but shout. He'd left his men exactly as they were. They hadn't been able to make it even to the centre of that no-man's-land before, and now they were going beyond it.

It was as if they were made of stone. They were animated by rage. They ducked behind their shields, and grunted when the arrows punched in through the wood, or glanced off the metal of those that were fortunate enough to have a steel shield. Even when the arrows missed the protection of their shields, and struck up high, towards their shoulders, or low, towards their legs, the men didn't fall. They grit their teeth, and they moved onwards.