Thessalia felt the malevolent energy of the enemy battering against her mental shield, pulsating with a collective force fueled by their shared thoughts and motives.
The surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins, heightening her senses and preparing her for the imminent battle.
Time was running out, as the enemy forces approached the city in large hordes, their impending attack drawing near with each passing minute.
Without wasting a moment, Thessalia approached the group of armed werewolves who were eagerly awaiting her instructions. Her gaze fell upon the formidable sight of a 3-meter-high stone wall that reached its end at a sturdy wooden gate.
The craftsmanship of the gate was impressive, but there was a glaring weakness: the small metal rod serving as the latch. It stood no
