The battle raged on with increasing intensity, the four warriors forming a tight circle as they fought back-to-back against the seemingly endless tide of undead. The ground around them was littered with the remnants of their enemies, but still more kept coming, emerging from the forest, from the underground tunnels, from shadows that seemed to spawn them from nothingness itself.
Arthur's world narrowed to the immediate threats around him—the reach of his blade, the positioning of his feet, the rhythm of strike and parry that kept him alive for one more second, one more heartbeat. His shadow powers were beginning to flicker more frequently now, the constant drain of energy starting to overwhelm even his enhanced reserves.
