The air was thick with the stench of blood and the acrid scent of burning swamp. Ashen stood atop the village wall, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the dark silhouette of the swamp creatures surged forward in an unending wave. His eyes were cold, his expression a mask of ruthless determination. There was no room for mercy, no space for hesitation. The village depended on his absolute strength, and tonight, he would show the creatures of the swamp what true power meant.
A guttural roar echoed from the depths of the marsh, sending a shiver of fear through the villagers. The creatures were closing in, their eyes glowing with a malevolent hunger. But Ashen did not falter. He did not blink. His fingers tightened around the Amaranth Staff, the air around him crackling with raw elemental power.
"Let them come," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll show them the meaning of fear."
