BANG!
The first impact shattered any remaining illusion of order in the Guild plaza.
Steel clashed with steel, boots pounded against stone, and the air erupted with the roars of unleashed auras as the Adventurers surged forward to confront the black-clad knights head-on.
Each fighter brought their own weapon, scars, and personal motivations. The only mana that flared came from bodies and blades, raw martial force and instinct honed through life-and-death struggles rather than polished training.
From above, the battlefield resembled a chaotic clash of two living tides. Figures surged into one another, colliding, breaking apart, reforming; each impact sent ripples through their formations.
Lines didn't hold. They shattered instantly into dozens, hundreds of individual duels and desperate skirmishes. This was no soldier's battlefield; it was a predator's ground.
At its heart, the Adventurers fought as they lived, individually, fiercely, unpredictably.
