The war bent around them.
Wherever they stepped, the chaos thinned—not because the killing lessened, but because men instinctively recoiled from the storm gathering between Ryon and the scarred commander. It was the gravity of blood and rage; both armies felt it, though neither side could name it.
Their blades met again.
Clang!
Clang!!
Steel on steel screamed like tortured iron. Sparks burst, bright against the dark haze of smoke and ash. The commander's spear darted, a serpent's tongue—sharp, precise, relentless. Ryon's sword answered with raw fury, heavier, each strike a hammer meant to break bone and end flesh.
They moved like predators.
