Warfront [part 3]

The cacophony of battle surrounded Northern on all sides—the guttural roars of beasts, their dying shrieks, the continuous clangs of talon and steel meeting claw and fang.

He moved through the chaos with a single purpose, the Blade carving deadly arcs through the air—survival!

With each foe he felled, exhaustion seeped deeper into his muscles, his grip on his sword becoming slick with sweat and gore.

But his eyes remained sharp, missing nothing around him even as he traded blows with the monster at his side.

The hideous hellion fought with a feral grace, its massive ax cleaving apart any that dared to approach it.

Dark blood spurted around it as it crushed bones and severed limbs. To the unaware eye, it would seem like the true threat on this nightmarish battlefield.

Yet Northern knew better. Beneath the monster's brutality lay a cunning intellect, its attacks coming at precise moments to drive back Northern's own enemies.