Tycondrius rushed out from their cover towards the skirmish, with Zenon following close behind. The Centurion had grossly understated the situation. The striker line guarding the Third Seal was almost non-existent and a dozen humans lay injured or dead near the seal itself.
Four Lake Eels were attacking an injured Iron-Rank Duelist, supported by an Iron-Rank Adept and two other Bronze-Rank casters. Farther in the distance, the group's remaining ranged classes were clumped together. They had to sustain their concentrated fire against the undead swarming from the forest, or they'd all be overrun.
"Optio!!" Zenon clenched his fists as they thrummed with lightning mana, "We have to save them!!"
"I'll do something!" Tycon growled. "Support me, but keep your mana reserves high in the likelihood that something goes wrong in the near future."
The Centurion grit his teeth but nodded in agreement.
