Hill did not respond immediately, just looked around as the snowstorm whipped the snow across the plains, enveloping the sorcerous knights in a flowing white mist.
He pulled open his heavy cloak to reveal the spiky, patterned, hardened chest armor, where faint deep and shallow cracks could be seen. These were indelible marks left by years of battle, symbolizing his iron-willed resolve.
"We must uproot the source of infection, no matter the cost, we cannot allow corruption to spread again!" His voice was like the roar of mountains, and even the cold northern wind couldn't extinguish the blazing flames within!
The war drums echoed through the valley, elite soldiers of all races eager to fight. They were ready and invigorated, communicating in silent agreement, conveying their shared vow of life and death, marking the human resistance against fate, an unyielding call for future freedom!
Time was slowly passing, every minute seemed exceptionally long and precious.
