The air inside the ruined temple was thick with the smell of dust, blood, and burning incense. Russ and Mira stood at the center, backs pressed together, surrounded by enemies cloaked in obsidian armor. Their blades gleamed faintly under the flickering torchlight, and the ground beneath them trembled from the residual energy of the last explosion.
"Five on my side," Mira muttered, tightening her grip on her curved dagger.
"Seven on mine," Russ replied, smirking despite the odds. "Guess I'll save you the easier job."
The first enemy lunged—fast, but sloppy. Russ sidestepped, blade slicing clean across the attacker's neck, leaving a spray of crimson. He pivoted instantly, using the corpse as a shield against the next strike. Steel rang against steel, sparks flaring.
Mira moved like a whisper, her form a blur. She ducked low, spinning, and slit the hamstrings of a warrior before driving her blade upward into his ribs. Without pausing, she twisted, disarming another enemy and snapping his neck in one fluid motion.
"You've been practicing," Russ called out, cutting down two more with ruthless efficiency.
"You've been getting sloppy," she shot back, kicking a body aside.
A deep rumble echoed through the temple, and a massive figure stepped forward—their commander. Twice Russ's height, muscles bound in black leather straps, and wielding a massive greatsword glowing faintly red. His eyes were like molten coals, locked on Russ.
"This one's mine," Russ said, stepping forward.
Mira frowned. "Don't get yourself killed."
The commander swung with terrifying force, his blade smashing into the stone floor and sending shards flying. Russ darted aside, feeling the rush of air as the massive sword missed him by inches. He countered with a lightning-fast slash, but the commander blocked it effortlessly, the clash reverberating through Russ's arms.
Mira didn't have the luxury of watching—three more enemies came at her at once. She parried the first, drove her knee into his stomach, and slashed his throat in the same movement. She dodged a spear thrust, grabbed the shaft, and yanked its wielder forward into her dagger. Blood sprayed across her arm, warm and sticky.
Russ, meanwhile, found himself forced back by the commander's relentless strength. Each strike was heavy enough to shatter stone. He knew he couldn't match brute force with brute force—so he switched tactics. Ducking under a wide swing, he slashed at the commander's legs, forcing him to stumble.
In that split second, Russ leapt forward, plunging his blade deep into the gap under the commander's arm. The giant roared, backhanding Russ across the temple floor. The impact rattled his bones, but he forced himself to roll to his feet, vision swimming.
Before the commander could recover, Mira appeared behind him. She climbed onto his back like a shadow and drove both her blades into the base of his skull. The giant froze, then collapsed like a felled tree, shaking the ground.
Russ grinned through blood on his lips. "Nice timing."
"Had to save your stubborn ass," Mira replied, wiping her blades.
The last two enemies hesitated, their confidence shattered. Russ and Mira didn't give them a chance to retreat—two blurs of motion, two final strikes, and silence fell.
Only the sound of their breathing filled the air now.
"We're running out of time," Mira said, scanning the far archway where a faint glow pulsed.
Russ nodded. "Then we keep moving—before the real trouble catches up."
They sheathed their blades and stepped into the shadows, ready for whatever came next.