The still water of the crescent-shaped pond mirrored the darkened sky, its eerie yet tranquil contrast standing stark against the chaos we had barely escaped.
Our bodies ached, our lungs still burned from the relentless sprint, and our clothes clung to us, soaked in sweat and tainted with the foul residue of the infected townspeople. Even as exhaustion threatened to drag us to the ground, none of us dared to collapse—not yet. We had bigger problems.
Ben was the first to break the silence, still catching his breath as he tightened his grip on his spear. The once-shining weapon was now marred with blackened pus, a sickly reminder of what we had just fought. He exhaled sharply, his expression grim.
"So… what the hell was that?" His voice was rough, laced with frustration. "That enchantment—whatever it was—made those knights damn near invincible."
