The battlefield was a cruel display of violence and chaos. Selene's Pyroclasm scorched entire clusters of Phantom League soldiers as it seared flesh and metal alike in a blaze that carved through their ranks. Her mastery over the fire element was on full display, and I had to admit that she was a talented mage.
Not far from her Cedric danced with death itself. His swordsmanship was so precise it seemed like art in motion instead of murder techniques. Each swing was calculated, each step a fluid evasion or counterattack. Blood spattered in arcs around him as he went from one enemy to the next, leaving behind a pile of felled foes.
Meanwhile, the monks who were led by Abudha pummeled the enemy lines with bare fists that cracked bones and armor alike. They moved as a single, seamless unit as they held the line of the front to the best of their abilities.
