Arthur's eyes scanned the battlefield once again. The battle had reached a critical juncture. His forces were pushing through the goblin ranks with deadly precision, and yet, the enemy still held strong in pockets across the field. His elite heroes, each of them formidable in their own right, had already crushed significant portions of the enemy's front. But there were still forces to the north, forces that required his strongest commanders.
His gaze turned toward the Silver Starlight Unit—Ava, the silent archer with a focus that could rival the sharpest blade, and Voloric, the indomitable warrior who tore through enemies like a storm.
"Ava," Arthur whispered, his voice steady yet filled with urgency. "Voloric. It's time."
Ava's bow was already drawn, her sharp eyes scanning the battlefield with the precision of a hawk in flight. She had been waiting for this moment. Her fingers relaxed slightly on the string, a sharp exhale escaping her lips. With one fluid motion, she loosed an arrow, and then another. The first was a long-distance shot, aimed at a distant goblin leader attempting to rally his troops. It struck with such force that the arrow pierced through the leader's armor, the force of impact snapping his spine in two.
Before the leader could even hit the ground, Ava fired again—her second shot finding the throat of a silver-tier goblin captain. Her aim was so precise that the goblin's scream was cut short before it could even begin.
"The battlefield is mine," she murmured to herself, her focus unwavering.
The *Silent Tempest* had already descended around her. Inside her domain, time seemed to slow for her enemies. Every movement felt sluggish and unnatural, while Ava's every motion was as quick and precise as lightning. Her arrows were mere blurs to the naked eye, streaking through the air with deadly intent. Each one that landed seemed to steal away the enemy's will to fight.
Arthur could see it now—the *Silent Tempest* enveloping the area, an aura of deadly calm that turned the chaos of the battlefield into a symphony of destruction. Goblins attempted to take cover behind rocks and debris, but Ava's arrows found them with an uncanny precision. The sound of each strike was nearly imperceptible, yet it left only devastation in its wake.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the northern flank, Voloric was waging his own war. The *Earthshaker Arena* had already taken shape beneath his feet. The ground trembled as he moved forward, his massive form cutting a swath through the enemy ranks. His great sword, forged from the toughest steel, swung with the force of a landslide.
Each step he took sent shockwaves through the ground, causing goblins to stumble and fall. The earth itself seemed to quake beneath his feet, and the enemies that dared to charge him found themselves slowed by the tremors. Their footing faltered, their weapons wavered, and their spirits faltered as their bodies were jarred by the intensity of the ground beneath them.
Voloric's laughter boomed across the battlefield. "Is that all you've got?"
He swung his sword in a wide arc, sending a shockwave of force that cleaved through an entire group of goblins. The soldiers closest to him were blown away like ragdolls, their armor crushed by the sheer power of the attack. But it wasn't just the damage that shook the enemy's morale—it was the way Voloric moved with unstoppable force. His power was overwhelming, and nothing seemed to be able to stop him.
As the earth quaked beneath him, Voloric activated his *Frenzy*—a passive that gave him an unholy burst of power as the battle raged on. His strength increased exponentially with each passing second. His next strike tore through multiple goblins at once, and then another, and another. No one could stand against him. His domain, the *Earthshaker Arena*, ensured that no enemy could stand firm in his presence.
"Feel the earth tremble beneath your feet," he growled, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to shake the very air. "You will break before the land does!"
Voloric's enemies had nowhere to run. They could barely keep their balance as the ground beneath them shifted violently, and even those who tried to charge were greeted with Voloric's unstoppable blade or the devastating shockwaves that followed his every move.
Arthur watched from the command platform, his gaze unwavering. He had known both Ava and Voloric for years, and yet, every time they unleashed their domains, it still amazed him. Together, their abilities complemented each other—Ava with her silent precision and Voloric with his raw, earth-shattering power.
As the goblin ranks began to crumble, Arthur saw the same terror in their eyes that he had seen before. Fear. Panic. The realization that they were facing heroes beyond their reckoning.
Ava's arrows continued to soar, and with every strike, a goblin captain fell. They had no chance of hiding. No chance of surviving.
In the chaos, one of the remaining goblin leaders—a silver-tier warrior with jagged armor—tried to rally his troops. "Hold your ground! Do not—"
Ava's next arrow flew, piercing the goblin leader's heart mid-sentence. His rallying cry died in his throat as he crumpled to the ground.
Ava lowered her bow, her expression unreadable. She scanned the battlefield for new targets, but she knew it was only a matter of time before the last of them broke. Her *Silent Tempest* ensured that none could escape her gaze, and none could outrun her deadly precision.
Meanwhile, Voloric's rampage continued unabated. His sword swung through the air, each strike sending out a shockwave of destruction. The earth shook beneath his feet, and his enemies were knocked off balance before they could even react. His power was unstoppable, and the battlefield was his arena.
Arthur nodded to himself, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "They've done it again."
The goblins were already retreating, their morale shattered. With Ava picking them off from a distance and Voloric tearing through their ranks, the goblins had no hope of holding their ground.
Soon, the battlefield was silent, save for the wind that whispered through the trees and the distant cries of the retreating goblins.
Arthur stood, his gaze unwavering. "Victory."
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