Worth of the Leader
A phalanx of Valkyrie knights, clad in gleaming silver armor and wielding enchanted blades, stepped forward, their faces grim with determination. They formed an impenetrable wall, a bulwark against the demonic onslaught.
"Tankers!" Anya boomed again, her voice carrying over the rising din of the battlefield. "Shields up!"
A contingent of burly Valkyries, their shields emblazoned with the Fjördland sigil, surged forward, their shields locked in a tight formation. They were an immovable wall of ice and steel, a testament to the Valkyrie's unwavering defense.
"Archers!" Anya's voice cracked with the strain of command, but her spirit remained unbroken. "Arrow rain!"
As if on cue, a volley of arrows darkened the sky. The Valkyrie archers, their movements honed by years of relentless training, unleashed a devastating torrent of ice-tipped arrows. The air thrummed with the deadly song of the projectiles, their blue glow cutting through the growing darkness.