The sounds of the battle were different.
The monsters' screeches were shorter. The explosions of magic sounded closer to victory than desperation. The explorers were shouting not in fear, but in confidence.
A young boy peeked over the rubble his mother was hiding behind. He saw a vine beast collapse into ash under a burst of flame.
"Mom… they're winning," he whispered.
His mother didn't answer at first. She was too afraid to believe it. But when she looked up and saw explorers advancing instead of retreating, something tight in her chest loosened.
Hope.
It crept in slowly, cautious and fragile, but real.
Captain Veylor let out a loud laugh as he cut through another thick vine.
"This is it!" he roared. "It's wearing down! Don't give it space to breathe!"
His voice carried across the battlefield, bold and steady. The explorers rallied around it.
"Push forward!"
"Burn it!"
"Cut the core!"
