On the other hand, Michael's group dealt the most damage to the Windigos. While Roxy and Ragnar kept the monsters from breaking the line, Michael and Gilbert hammered at anything that slipped through, pushing them back from Evie, Emerald, and Lyka.
To avoid pulling aggro, Emerald and Lyka only targeted Windigos with slivers of HP—the ones Michael and Gilbert had already softened. They timed their spells carefully, releasing magic the instant a bar dipped into red, sniping the kills without stealing threat.
For a while, the rhythm worked. The formation held. Roxy and Ragnar were rocks; Michael and Gilbert were the blades; Emerald and Lyka were the finishing shots; and Evie, with precise bursts of fire, erased anything that threatened the line. The fog churned with heat, and the shrieks of dying Windigos scattered like cinders on the wind.
But after thirty relentless minutes, something felt wrong.
