The battlefield shifted again.
Two trolls had already fallen, yet the fight that began before the others still took place, now with two more figures added to the mix.
Fenrir now fought alongside Dummy. As the leader, no matter how reckless Dummy had been, Fenrir wouldn't let one of his own be overwhelmed. Not after Noah had saved him not long ago.
Three trolls had targeted them now, clubs and claws tightening with eagerness. They weren't instinctively sharp like their blue-skinned leader. They didn't care for tactics, didn't wait to measure aura or intent. To them, strength was measured by size alone.
And in their eyes, Fenrir and Dummy were the largest. The most dangerous. The ones worth killing first.
The three trolls once believed they had the advantage. However, one of them was barely moving, its upper body was charred, not even its eyes were spared. The damage was so severe that its regeneration seemed lost to what to heal first.
