His words injected a fresh burst of adrenaline into the weary defenders. They rallied, finding new courage in their leader's unwavering resolve.
The battle raged, a symphony of destruction. Qi blasts tore through the air, steel clashed against metal, and the ground trembled underfoot. Xiaochen was a terrifying figure at the heart of it all, his movements precise, deadly, a dance with oblivion. He fought not with a warrior's joy, but with a leader's grim determination. Every swing of his sword was a decision, every parry a calculated risk.
"More are coming from the north!" a scout yelled, barely audible over the din.
Xiaochen swore under his breath. The Emissaries seemed to have an endless supply. He directed a small contingent of archers to focus fire on the new wave, hoping to thin the
