The Elven Generals and the Goliaths fought with everything they had, but they could not afford even a moment's lapse in focus.
The Shadowborne were like a tide of darkness, and if they faltered, even for a second, that tide would consume them whole.
Every blow had to count, every spell had to land, and every step had to be calculated. It was a battle of attrition, and the Shadowborne had all the time in the world.
Rain had watching from afar, and could feel the tension in the air. The battlefield was a cacophony of sound — clashing steel, crackling magic, and the unholy roars of the Shadowborne.
The sight of the Generals and the Goliaths fighting with such ferocity was awe-inspiring, but it was also a grim reminder of the stakes.
This was no ordinary battle; it was a war of survival against an enemy that knew no fear, no pain, and no mercy.
