"So, this is the Shadow Army," Orion murmured, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield below.
Countless dark forms flickered in and out of existence, weaving through the chaos. They would materialize only when an enemy was exhausted or had overextended, their attacks sudden and lethal.
"They have their weaknesses," Alexander stated, his tone as flat as the barren plains around them. "They cannot hold a line. To send them into a direct melee is to misuse their strength."
He spoke as if assessing a shipment of grain rather than his own elite soldiers.
"But for flanking, for assassinations, for running down a broken foe… they are peerless."
"Don't sell them short, my friend," Orion countered, shaking his head. He saw more than just assassins. He saw a force whose true strength was masked by its unorthodox nature. They were not meant to be fodder for the grinder.
