Nyx felt the weight of Maris' words pressing down on her. She knew that the tide of this battle was shifting, and her usual strategies were becoming less effective. Every teleportation, every spatial tear, was met with a surge of new marionettes. It was a ceaseless wave of pressure, wearing down her defenses and limiting her options.
But Nyx was not one to give in easily.
The sealed battlefield shimmered, and Nyx's narrowed gaze flicked to Maris. "You think your little army will be enough to stop me?" she taunted, though her voice lacked its earlier confidence.
Maris, standing tall and poised, responded only with action. Her hands glowed with the radiant light of her magic, and the marionettes responded. The ground trembled as more and more of the eerie, puppet-like figures appeared. One by one, they emerged from the shadowy corners of the battlefield, their wooden bodies animated by divine energy.
There weren't just hundreds now. There were thousands.
