The battlefield was filled with the sound of war. The air was thick with smoke, ash, and blood.
Alaric's blade flashed, cutting through another soldier as the Skyblade Knights surged forward in perfect formation.
But something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
These men, the Varennes soldiers, they were not fighting like ordinary men.
Their eyes were wild, their strength unrelenting, and though their bodies bled, they did not falter.
One knight buried his sword in a Varennes soldier's chest, the man still pushed forward, his mouth foaming with a strange black vapor before collapsing.
"By the heavens!" Carlden roared beside him. "They should be dead by now!"
Alaric turned, slicing clean through another opponent. "They're not relying on their own strength," he snapped.
Another enemy lunged at him, unnaturally fast. Alaric's blade met his with an instant speed.
