The wall of fire roared around Luke and Ilyrana, casting dancing shadows of orange and red that highlighted their strained expressions. Beyond the blaze, their dark elven pursuers paced like wolves, eyes gleaming with a cold, unyielding intensity. The fire served as a fragile barrier between predator and prey, holding them off—but the heat was starting to wear on both Luke and Ilyrana, pressing down on them like an unspoken threat.
Luke's mind raced as he scanned the surroundings, searching for any opportunity. They couldn't stay here indefinitely, boxed in by flames and surrounded by an enemy that seemed content to wait until they burned themselves out. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he could see Ilyrana's chest heaving with each breath as she steadied herself, trying to gather her strength. She was no stranger to battle, but the recent surge of enemies had pushed her to the edge, her reserves depleted from fending off countless attacks.
