The lizardmen fought in disciplined packs, rolling like a tide through the Sengolio line. Against their natural strength and Skitz's drilled precision, the noble's soldiers faltered, screams drowning beneath the wet crunch of bones and the heavy stomp of scaled feet grinding men into the mud.
Uncle Drake fought in steady rhythm, his heavy sword sweeping aside spears and shields, while Jen stayed close, her shield intercepting strikes meant for them both. Together, they carved forward step by step, neither yielding ground.
Lumberling moved through the chaos like a shadow, Skitz at his side. His gaze locked on the stronger presences, the Knights. Among them, one stood taller, his aura heavier than the rest. A True Knight at the first stage, a spear gripped firmly in his hand.
Skitz's eyes gleamed. "That one's mine to break… unless you want to draw first blood."
Lumberling's lips curved into a thin smile as he lowered his spear. "We'll take him together."
