Chapter 155: Beating You with Your Own Tactics

The pit ahead was a full two meters deep. Its floor bristled with sharpened bamboo. Seven or eight Bysmore soldiers dropped in and, in the blink of an eye, were skewered. Razor-sharp spikes tore through guts and bellies. Two had their skulls punctured clean through, dead as a doornail. The rest, by some miserable luck, were still breathing. They had stumbled off the trap's edge and fallen in, spared from instant death, but the bamboo had pierced vital spots. They writhed and howled, screaming from...