The battle raged on across the endless plains of Valachia, a storm of steel, screams, and blood that refused to die down. By the sixth day, it had escalated beyond anything that could be called a strategy or formation. Every carefully laid plan had long since been abandoned. What remained was pure chaos—an all-out war where survival and conviction were the only rules left standing.
The knights of the Resistance had fought without pause, their bodies pushed far beyond exhaustion. Six days of unrelenting combat had stripped them down to sheer willpower, but that alone was enough to keep them moving. Every swing of their swords carried the desperate weight of families waiting back home, of kingdoms that would fall into shadow if they faltered here.
