Dawn had barely broken when the group left the cave. The silence of the previous night still weighed heavily on their hearts, but there was no time to linger. Their path led into a narrow valley—a passage they had to cross to reach the southern plains.
The valley's towering cliffs loomed overhead, shrouded in thick mist. An unnatural stillness filled the air, and that silence itself was a warning.
As they stepped inside, the sound of pounding boots echoed from the mist. Black flames, writhing like serpents, burst into view. Soldiers of the Dark Emperor, clad in obsidian armor with eyes burning with fury, emerged from every direction.
The Exiled Warrior unsheathed his blade and roared:
"Ambush! Stand your ground!"
The clash began. Steel rang against steel, magic roared, and cries of war filled the valley. The Silent Sorceress summoned sparks of radiant fire to drive back the fog. The Runaway Prince darted between foes, striking swiftly with his twin daggers.
Yet the army seemed endless. For every foe they felled, another wave poured out of the mist.
Arin's heart pounded wildly as he gripped his sword. Until now, he had fought only to survive. But in this inferno of steel and blood, for the first time, his strikes carried not just fear—but true fury and resolve.
Then, a thunderous roar shook the valley. The ground trembled as a colossal figure emerged from the mist: a commander of darkness, clad in black steel, wielding a sword larger than any man.
The group stood together, facing the giant. The battle in the valley was no longer just a fight for survival… it was a trial of their faith in one another.