"Stay close!" Shye exclaimed while gritting his teeth.
Only a hundred worn-out warriors remained to protect the little over a thousand spellcasters and archers, who had also suffered casualties.
As the Hadean Varsa warrior ranks thinned, it was inevitable that some Soul Warriors and their lesser versions would break through the cracks in their formations, claiming the lives of a few backliners before succumbing to their relentless barrage of spells and arrows.
The situation only continued to worsen until it reached its current state.
Old Tigren was grievously injured and lay unconscious in the middle of the roughly circular formation of warriors and backliners, with three healers doing their best to mend the wounds he had suffered from the Hawklings.
Meanwhile, his vice commander, Stonecold, had fared even worse—he had already departed to the afterlife after being overwhelmed by three Hawklings.
