The service soldiers in the rear carried round shields, hunched over, pulling soldiers under their arms, struggling to drag them towards the rear.
Arrow rain and lead shot exchanged fire from afar; at this distance, holy guns were inaccurate but powerful, while bows and arrows were precise but less powerful.
Each side sustained losses, but they were minimal.
Watching the Salvation Army troops quickly cross the top of the mound, Griffin's forehead was soaked with sweat. He gritted his teeth: "Mad, let's do it. The left flank, advance fifteen ranks, the rear stays put. Once the front is on the slope, you charge."
Picking up a heavy kite-shaped shield wrapped in iron, Griffin donned iron gloves, with his servant following behind, carrying a flaming heavy sword.
The sword was too long; it couldn't be drawn when carried on the back or at the waist, so it had to be carried by a designated person.
