The square was no longer stone and ash—it was a slaughterhouse. Screams rose with the smoke, steel shrieked as it split against Kael's crimson blade, and blood ran in rivulets across the ground.
Ronan's roar cut through the clash as he raised his shield just in time. A spear shattered against the iron face, but the force drove him to a knee. He gritted his teeth, sweat mixing with the blood on his brow. His axe surged upward, splitting the spearman clean in two.
"Damn rats don't stop coming!" he spat, pushing back against two more soldiers.
Kael was already there, a blur of red lightning. His sword slammed into the man trying to flank Ronan, splitting his helm in half. "Stand firm," he growled, voice sharp as the steel in his hand. "We don't yield ground."
Another wave surged forward, Sovereign banners glinting above their helms. The soldiers pressed tight, shields locking, spears bristling like a wall of thorns.
Lyra danced among them. She slid beneath a thrust, daggers flashing, carving a deep gash in a soldier's thigh. The man howled, collapsing, but she was gone before his blade hit the ground. A second soldier raised his weapon—only for her to spring off his shield, vaulting over him, and drive her dagger down into the vulnerable joint of his neck.
She twisted, ripped the blade free, and sneered. "Too slow."
The captain's eyes tracked her from across the melee, his jaw clenched tight. "You—assassin!" he spat, charging at her with his greatsword raised.
Their blades clashed with a thunderous crack. Lyra's arms strained under the blow, but her grin only widened. "Finally," she whispered, eyes gleaming.
On the other side of the square, Serenya staggered as another volley of arrows shattered against her barrier. Each impact sent ripples across the shimmering dome, her magic groaning under the weight of so much strain. Her breath grew ragged, hands trembling as the staff thrummed with unstable power.
"Serenya!" Kael's voice snapped across the chaos, crimson eyes locking on her faltering form.
"I can still hold!" she gasped, though sweat streamed down her face. "Protect the people—don't look at me!"
Kael's teeth clenched. His sword whirled in a wide arc, cutting down three men in a storm of sparks and blood. He lunged forward, aura flaring, carving another Bloodrend Arc that tore a swath through the Sovereign lines. Soldiers flew back, bodies broken.
But the captain's voice bellowed above it all:
"Do not falter! Kill them, or the Sovereign will see your heads on spikes!"
The men howled in forced fury, tightening their ranks.
And for the first time, Kael felt the weight of their numbers. His chest rose and fell, breath heavy. His blade dripped blood. Around him, the bodies piled higher, but the soldiers still came.
Ronan's shield arm trembled under repeated blows. Lyra locked in a deadly dance with the captain, neither giving an inch. Serenya's barrier cracked, flickering dangerously.
The villagers huddled inside the dome stared in horror, clutching one another, praying these strangers could hold.
And in that moment, Kael planted his foot, blood dripping from his jaw. He raised his sword slowly, the crimson aura burning brighter, his voice steady despite the chaos.
"Then let them come."
He spun his blade into guard, crimson flames licking along the steel. His aura flared higher, casting a glow that drowned out the Sovereign banners.
"Because this night," Kael growled, eyes burning like embers, "I'll carve despair into every one of you."
The Sovereign line faltered. Even their captain hesitated—just for a heartbeat—before tightening his grip.
And the storm raged on.