The act was simple on paper, but every warrior knew that survival was the first and foremost instinct of those who stepped on the battlefield. Handling that much power and dealing such a precise blow required a focus that only someone with a clear mind could muster.
On top of that, the soldiers didn't miss that even the way the nameless warrior had died mattered. His pack members had shed their blood for him during his final journey, and now his blood covered them all.
Monsters, humans, elves, and undead carried his remains and had been entrusted by the dead Hati with his will to fight.
'What a noble race.' The elves thought while nocking three arrows at a time and preparing a combination of spells.
'I can't believe that if I get to return home alive, I'll owe it to a monster.' The humans thought, raising their wands.
