Lyerin stood at a distance, his gaze impassive as he watched the carnage unfold around him.
The air was thick with the stench of blood and the acrid tang of sweat and fear.
Shadows flickered across the walls of the cavern, cast by the dim light that barely pierced the darkness.
It was a dance of death, and Lyerin moved through it with an eerie calm, sidestepping and evading the savage strikes of the trilobites with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly.
The soldiers fell one by one.
Each death was brutal, a raw display of the trilobites' relentless savagery.
Their claws ripped through flesh, their mandibles crushed bone.
The sounds of screams and desperate cries echoed off the cavern walls, mingling with the hissing and clicking of their monstrous enemies.
There was no mercy here, only the harsh reality of survival—and for the soldiers, survival was slipping away with every breath.
