The grandmaster gritted her teeth, her sharp gaze darting around the grotesque chamber. She was silent, calculating, her mind racing through countless possibilities.
"We have a few options," she said slowly.
"We could attempt a direct assault on Volk. If we pour every ounce of magic we have left into immobilizing him, perhaps we could buy time for the creature to recover."
"But that's risky!" Bong Me-Eon countered.
"We've seen how resilient he is. Even our necromantic magic barely distracts him. And if we weaken ourselves that much, we might not have the strength to keep controlling the giant."
Her master clenched her fists, frustration flickering in her eyes.
"True. And any attempt to strike him directly could easily backfire if we miscalculate. But if we stay passive, our spells will fade, and the orcs will overwhelm this creature. They're adapting too quickly to the necromantic chains…"
