The surviving Hobgoblins and elven warriors were equally exhausted.
For a brief moment, they allowed themselves to believe it was over. The air was heavy with exhaustion, the kind that seeps into your bones after a fight that drains every last ounce of strength.
They had lost good men and women — brave souls who had fought valiantly but had not survived the fight. Their sacrifices weighed heavily on those who remained, a somber reminder of the cost of their victory.
Rain's gaze swept over the battlefield, taking in the sight of his companions as they tried to catch their breath and regain their composure.
Santi was still on her knees, her face streaked with tears and dirt, her eyes hollow from the death of her father. Now she was truly alone.
Helliana gave her a reassuring nod, but the sorrow in her eyes mirrored Santi's grief.
