In the meantime, Valtar had expected the attack from the woods and waited until the men dashed through the fields before giving his archers the order to shoot. A thousand arrows hit on flesh, forcing men to their knees, blood spattering around, more arrows and bolts sending men to their deaths and at last, standing on opposite sides of a broad field, king Bǫlverkr glared at Valtar, a blood thirsty grin on his face. He held his sword into the sky and ordered his men to attack.
Massive orbs of clay, stone and sand, bound by cloth, shot through the sky, eradicating the line of archers in a matter of seconds. Then the soldiers advanced, striking down Valtar's men until few remained, holding down the line at the edge of the woods.