Spirit Game

Despite the combined might of the Generals and the Goliaths, the battle against the Shadowborne Legionnaires was nothing short of harrowing.

The dark creatures pressed forward their sheer numbers threatening to overwhelm even the most seasoned warriors. The battlefield was a chaotic maelstrom of clashing steel, flashing magic, and the eerie, guttural roars of the Shadowborne.

It felt as if the Shadowborne were endless, an unrelenting tide of darkness poised to consume them. One wrong move could spell their doom, as the dark creatures were unending, ready to overwhelm and pick them off if they let their guard down for even a moment.

The battle was grueling and exhausting, pushing their troops to the brink with no respite in sight.

Elora moved across the battlefield, trying her best to cleaved way for her troops. Her every step was calculated, her movements a blur as she danced through the fray.

With her mastery over the desert's terrain, she led her troops through the dunes, avoiding traps and ambushes. Her twin blades flashed in the dim light, cutting down any Shadowborne that dared to draw near.

But even as she weaved through the battlefield, guiding her troops and creating paths, she could feel the weight of the unending horde bearing down on them.

"We can't keep this up forever!" Elora shouted. "Fall back! Carry the injured with you! Don't stray too near the enemy lines and canons!"

At the side, Rylan hands moved in intricate patterns, weaving spells that twisted reality itself. With a wave of his hand, the air shimmered, and suddenly, a dozen illusory copies of the Elven warriors appeared, confusing and disorienting the Shadowborne.

The dark creatures struck at phantoms, their attacks wasting precious moments. Rylan's illusions turned the tide of battle in brief, powerful bursts, but he knew he could not hold them forever.

The Shadowborne seemed like they were crawling out of the underworld without stopping. No matter how many they eliminated more rose from the ashes. Their attacks becoming more coordinated as they adapted to his tricks.

"There's no end to them. We have to kill Draken in order to stop them!" Rylan said at the others.

"That's easy for you to say!" Elora shouted back, her voice cutting through the chaos. "We can't even breach their front lines, and those cannons, arrows, and spells rain down on us from the city's defenses before we can get anywhere near him!" Chapter Enjoy:

Rylan clenched his teeth, frustration gnawing at him. Was the only way to breach the wall really through the Ebizo's help? But what if they failed? It could mean doom for them all.

There had to be another way, Rylan thought. But then he forced himself to calm down, reminding himself it had only been two days since Rain and the others joined them.

Judging by the pipes and the depths they traversed with the Ebizo's speed, Rylan deduced they must have reached the other side by now, especially since they hadn't encountered any significant resistance along the way.

At the earliest, they would have arrived at the main control room by the break of dawn, and at the latest, by dusk.

But if the gate still wasn't opened by tomorrow, it would mean General Varlox and the others had failed — and that would spell disaster for them all.

On the other hand, Kaelen stood firm amidst the chaos, his connection to the earth unshakable. His hands were rooted to the ground, channeling the raw power of the desert sands.

With every motion, the ground beneath the Shadowborne shifted and heaved, opening fissures that swallowed them whole or conjuring pillars of stone that crushed them.

The earth obeyed his will, rising up to form barriers that shielded the Elves from the worst of the onslaught. Yet, for every Shadowborne he crushed, another seemed to rise from the shadows, their advance no ending.

"Oi! Elves! Why don't you help the others instead of just worrying about your own troops?!" Thorgar bellowed, his massive frame barreling through the ranks of the Shadowborne, his warhammer crashing down with the force of a thunderclap.

"You can handle those yourself. Goliaths and Orcs are strong enough, surely they don't need our help," Rylan replied coolly.

Thorgar muttered under his breath, "What a bunch of . . ."

"Forget it, Thorgar," Valera grunted. "You know how elves are — selfish and distant. They may be our allies now, but they won't lift a finger for anyone other than themselves."

Thorgar flicked his ear, launching a bit of grime away as he smashed another dark creature leaping at him. "Honestly, if it weren't for the danger to our tribe, I wouldn't bother helping these snobbish elves at all."

Each swing of his hammer sent shockwaves through the ground, scattering the dark creatures like leaves in the wind. His armor, thick and impenetrable, withstood their savage claws and dark magic, but even he could feel the pressure of their unending numbers.

Thorgar's strength was unmatched, but even he was just one Goliath facing an endless tide of darkness. Rain's troops, the Hobgoblins, along with the other Goliaths and Orcs, were fully engaged, each locked in their own desperate battles.

Valera fought with the fury of the elements at her command. Lightning crackled around her, striking down the Shadowborne with pinpoint accuracy.

The wind whipped through the battlefield, swirling sand into blinding storms that disoriented their foes. Her voice rang out, commanding the storm to do her bidding, and the sky answered with thunderous roars.

But despite her power, Valara knew that the storm could not last forever, her mana was also depleting fast. The Shadowborne were tireless, and their dark magic seemed to sap the very energy from the air around her.

As the battle raged on, the strain began to show. The Sand Elves, though skilled and disciplined, were growing weary. The Goliaths, despite their immense strength, could not hold back the tide alone. The Shadowborne Legionnaires were a nightmarish force, their ranks never thinning, their assaults unending.

For every enemy cut down, two more seemed to take its place, their cold, dead eyes gleaming with malevolent intent.