Lara's grip tightened on Pamela, the child pressed close against her breastplate. Her sword lifted into the dusk, steel gleaming like a shard of lightning."We hold," she growled, her voice carrying across the deck, unyielding as iron. "We hold until the last breath."
On the shore, the people of Lavista stood hushed, their silence heavy, their whispers cutting sharper than any blade.
The Zurans surged again, blades flashing in the dim glow of dusk, shadows given flesh. But Lara moved like a storm unchained, fury burning through every strike. Pamela clung to her, trembling, while her sword carved arcs of death into the night.
"Back to the boats!" Alaric thundered, his voice a command that kept the Legion's line from buckling.
But Lara did not retreat. Not yet. Her eyes burned with a fire that would not let her step away. She shoved Pamela into the arms of a soldier. "Protect her with your life. I'll clear the deck."
And then she turned—alone—into the mass of shadows.
