The battle raged on. My body ached. The crystals pulsed. The choice had been made. But I wasn't alone.
Through the fire, a figure moved. His sword flashed like lightning. Galndrik arrived — just in time.
Flames danced around him. His eyes locked onto the two Mega Orcs. And with a voice that cut through the chaos:
"Enough games, vermin. It's time you felt fear."
The fire circled him like a ritual. His presence sent a chill through allies and enemies alike.
His blade struck with precision. Every motion confident. The Orcs couldn't react in time. His sword tore through the air — and through them.
Brek stood in the storm. His silver blade soaked in blood. His breath heavy, chest rising and falling. Every muscle burned with fatigue — but his eyes held no fear. Only focus.
A massive Orc charged with a war axe. Brek dodged at the last moment. The axe slammed into the ground, scattering stone and dirt.
Brek spun. His sword carved deep into the Orc's side. The beast howled. Brek didn't hesitate. One final slash — across the throat.
Silence.
Laima moved like a shadow. Her bow sang. An arrow pierced an Orc's neck before it could raise its weapon.
She didn't stop. She dropped low, spun, dodged. Another arrow drawn.
Her eyes met Brek's. He gave a subtle nod — silent signal.
She released. Brek stepped aside. The arrow struck true — straight to the heart.
"Target confirmed," she whispered.
The dance of battle continued. But something had shifted.
We weren't just survivors. We were allies.