"Open the path!" Kent roared.
He loosed arrows—not ordinary arrows, but divine spell-forged projectiles that tore through defenses and exploded with elemental fury. Fire mixed with wind, thunder laced with spirit ice. Every draw of the string was a declaration of war against fate.
To his right, Princess Neela moved like an empress of death.
Her Ice Storm Domain bloomed around the advancing line, creating a corridor of frozen safety. Every enemy reinforcement that attempted to support the Golden Shield lines found themselves halted by blizzards and frost-serpents. Her spear flickered in rhythmic waves, her breath calm even as chaos raged.
Cheers erupted from the flanks.
"Victory to Naga!"
"Make way for the Chosen!"
The Naga clan warriors chanted with renewed vigor. The tides felt as though they themselves bent in favor of Kent's mission.
But fate, cruel and sharp, had not yet played its final card.
