The pack leader's golden eyes held predatory satisfaction as it surveyed the carnage its coordinated assault had wrought. Maya's broken form served as a brutal reminder of what happened to those who underestimated the temple's guardians, while the surviving expedition members struggled to maintain defensive positions that grew more desperate with each passing moment.
Lyralei's Master-rank capabilities blazed with intensity born from desperation as she engaged three Brelgorns simultaneously, her blade work reaching heights of precision that approached the legendary. But even her seventeen expeditions worth of experience couldn't overcome the mathematical reality of their situation - too many enemies, too few defenders, and accumulated injuries that threatened to overwhelm their remaining strength through pure attrition.
