The battlefield stood still for a moment, as if the air itself held its breath. All eyes were fixed on the two figures locked in a deadly standoff: Thadric, his massive axe resting against his shoulder, and the dark-armored figure who radiated an aura of malice. The twisted creatures paused, their glowing eyes flickering like restless embers, awaiting their master's command.
'This one's different,'
Thadric muttered, his voice low.
'Feels like they've got more fight in them than the rest of this lot.'
From her vantage point above, Elvara's sharp gaze tracked the figure's movements. The subtle shifts in their posture, the unnatural glow around their weapon, it all screamed danger.
'Thadric, don't underestimate them,'
she called out, her voice steady but firm.
'They're not like the others.'
The figure tilted their head, their voice cutting through the tense silence.
