The night erupted into chaos as Amara and her warriors charged toward the western ridge. The sounds of war horns echoed through the air, mingling with the pounding of hearts and the clash of steel. The moonlight illuminated the path ahead, casting shadows that danced around them like spirits eager for the fray.
"Archers, take your positions!" Amara commanded, her voice cutting through the din of battle preparations. "Stay low and out of sight until we give the signal!"
As they ascended the ridge, Amara felt the adrenaline coursing through her veins, heightening her senses. She glanced at Kirin, who was sprinting alongside her, determination etched on his face. They shared a brief nod—an unspoken bond of trust that had been forged through countless battles.
