Northern and the forces of the Kingdom of Red Mines stood shoulder to shoulder with the monstrous creatures.
The clash of metal against scales reverberated through the battlefield, a symphony of violence and chaos.
The lizard-like monsters, with their obsidian-black scales and razor-sharp talons, lunged at them with savage fury. Their eyes glowed a malevolent red, reflecting the fires that raged around them.
Amidst the carnage, Northern fought with a relentless ferocity. The Mortal Blade moved with a rough fluidity and precision, cutting through the enemy ranks like a scythe through wheat.
Blood splattered his brown armor, staining it a dark crimson, but he paid no heed to the gore that surrounded him. His face, once marked by determination and hope, now bore a haunted expression.
With each swing of his blade, Northern's grip on reality slipping.