Kael, Alice, and Astra stood amidst the battlefield, the stench of charred flesh and scorched earth thick in the air.
The last remnants of the monstrous horde lay in broken heaps around them, their bodies still smoldering from the trio's relentless onslaught.
Even in death, the creatures were unnatural—flesh writhing as if resisting oblivion, their twisted forms convulsing before collapsing into piles of blackened ash.
Their remains shimmered briefly with an eerie, otherworldly glow before disintegrating entirely, leaving only a faint, acrid mist lingering in the air.
Yet, the battle was far from over.
A thunderous boom echoed across the Anvil Bastion as the fortress gates groaned open, unleashing a tide of steel-clad warriors.
The dwarves, over three thousand strong, surged forth with a battle cry that shook the very ground beneath them.
"Open th' gate! We cannae let 'em do all th' work!" Thalrik roared, his thick beard bristling with the fury of battle. "Into formation!"
