Banners rise above the line.
Dark.
Angular.
Orthani.
“They took their time,” Kareth mutters as he steps up beside me again, wiping blood from his blade with a quick, efficient motion.
“Yes,” I say, watching the formation as it advances. “But they came in clean.”
That’s what matters.
The reinforcements don’t hesitate when they hit the field. They drive straight into the outer flank of Krago’s forces, their formation tight enough that the impact doesn’t scatter—it compresses, forcing the enemy inward, collapsing their ability to spread and regroup.
“They’re cutting off retreat,” Lyria says, her voice sharpening.
“They’re cutting off options,” I correct.
Because now there’s nowhere for Krago’s forces to reset.
The shift ripples through the field almost immediately. Commands start to overlap, units turning too late, movements colliding instead of aligning. What held them together before begins to fracture under pressure from both sides.
“Now,” I call, stepping forward as the opening widens. “Push into it!”
The line responds, not cleanly, not perfectly, but with force, surging forward just enough to keep the pressure constant. Steel meets steel again, but the rhythm has shifted—less reactive, more deliberate.
An orc lunges toward me, overextended, and I step inside the strike, redirecting it and driving him back with a shove that sends him into the soldier behind him. The disruption carries, breaking the next movement in sequence.
They feel it.
They’re losing cohesion.
Good.
Through the shifting bodies, I see him.
Krago moves forward through the chaos without urgency, without hesitation, his presence cutting through the disorder instead of being dragged into it. Even now, with his forces breaking around him, he holds to the same measured pace.
Of course he does.
This was always going to end here.
“Kareth,” I say, not taking my eyes off him.
“I’ve got the line,” he replies immediately.
“Hold it.”
“Don’t take too long.”
I don’t answer.
I’m already moving.
The space between us compresses as I push through the shifting field, not forcing a path, but taking the one that opens as bodies move around me. The noise fades, not because it’s gone, but because it stops mattering, everything narrowing to the line between us.
Krago watches me approach, his gaze steady, unreadable.
