Even as it releases an ink cloud and tries to dart away, you speed forward, hefting your hammer into the heart of the squid. It slinks off Cinza and falls lifeless toward the seafloor. You feel a squid right behind you and whirl around to find outstretched tentacles and a gnashing beak. But Arraia darts in to rope the squid up and pull it away, and Estre finishes it off for her. You allow yourself a quick breath of relief.
You take the small lull to look around at the rest of the battle. Even with so many merfolk arriving late, or fighting at a lessened capacity, you still have the numbers, the ferocity, to fight back against the squid invasion. You see others like yourself who would normally avoid battle—weavers, crystal-shapers, librarians—taking up arms and pushing back against this incursion on your own city. Everyone's determined. Nobody wants to let the squid take what they want. You hold your warhammer aloft and lash hard to rejoin the fray, giving out a guttural battle cry that Arraia, Estre, and Cinza join with their own cries.