The battlefield, once teeming with undead, was now eerily silent. The oppressive tension that had hung in the air was temporarily lifted as the team took a moment to breathe, the sense of victory tangible. But George knew it wouldn't last. His eyes scanned the horizon, where the next wave of enemy forces was gathering.
Lucy slung her shotgun over her shoulder, her chest still heaving from the exertion of battle. "That was intense," she said, wiping sweat from her brow. "But we got them. Necromancers, toast."
Raven, ever the stoic warrior, sheathed her katana, her eyes narrowing toward the distance. "Don't get too comfortable. That was just one part of their army. The real challenge is still coming."
George nodded in agreement, his senses on high alert. "Raven's right. We've only bought ourselves a little time. We need to regroup and check on the others."
