As the battlefield began settling into a disorienting silence, the clash of wills faded. The echoes of a war fought with ferocity and desperation reverberated across the rolling plains. Soldiers from both factions lay wounded or dead, remnants of the fierce ambush marking the ground, incapable of distinguishing ally from adversary.
"Victory!" James cried out, his voice marking the cusp of triumph over tragedy as he surveyed the aftermath of battle. Yet, the lingering taste of Xander's blood stained him—a reminder of the heavy toll of ambition.
As Jonathan knelt beside Xander's lifeless form, disbelief painted his face. "This betrayal... will it be repeated?" he murmured, struggling to understand the ramifications of this confrontation.
"No longer shall we be shackled by false alliances!" Michael declared triumphantly, raising his blade high as those who remained rallied to him, cloaked in a new purpose that would reshape their future.
