Erik gazed upon the terrified villagers, their faces marked with fear. Yet a stubborn fire burned in their eyes, filling him with hope.
They stood firm, holding their weapons with unwavering determination, refusing to back down.
His breath hitched as a rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins. He felt a pang of helplessness; his mana reserves were dangerously low. Yet, he had been trained and didn't stop training during these months in the art of the sword. However, all that training was meant for moments like this; he received basic combat training to face situations where mana was insufficient.
Tired yet resolute, Erik leaped into battle's midst, clutching the Flyssa firmly in his hand.
The world seemed to shrink as he stood there, leaving only the beasts closing in, their hisses filling the air and the villagers' faces etched with worry.