On the other side of the fog, the clash of steel drew closer. Blades rang out in sharp bursts, each strike echoing in every direction as though the mist itself carried the sound.
The roar of soldiers colliding surged and fell like a restless tide, yet no forms could be seen. The fog smothered all sight, leaving only the noise of unseen war.
At one area, Lina stood with eyes closed, her staff rooted firmly into the ground.
From its tip pulsed a faint glow, threads of light unraveling into the mist like strands of a vast, delicate web.
Her eyes were closed. All of her focus poured into the invisible walls binding the battlefield, tracing and unwinding their patterns with relentless patience.
She had known the moment she stepped through the gate, this was not some dormant ancient formation. Its lines had been tampered. That was why she had warned everyone.
