Valeria didn't respond right away. For a brief moment, the battlefield seemed to hang in a breathless pause, the kind of silence that precedes something irreparable shattering.
Riven's words hung heavily in the air, suffocating yet not provoking fear, hesitation, or even rage.
Valeria stepped forward, her blade angled low as she positioned herself shoulder to shoulder with Gregor and Vanthrice. Instinctively, they formed a line, backs aligned and eyes locked on the encroaching figures. The black-clad men began to close in with synchronized precision, their formation tightening with each step as boots crunched softly over shattered obsidian and scorched earth.
There was no shouting or bravado; only an oppressive pressure, a slow squeeze meant to break the spirit before the body.
Valeria's voice pierced through the tension. "Can you guys still fight?"
