In The Fray [PART 1]

The battlefield seethed with chaos, wafting with the pungent and distasteful smell of rotten flesh and blood.

The monsters, their grotesque figures distorted by a soft crimson haze, advanced in twisted waves, limbs dragging against the ground, eyes hollow and hungry.

Northern's gaze sharpened, cold and focused, the faintest grin playing at his lips as he lowered himself into a stance.

In one hand, a black and red dagger gleamed with an eerie passion to draw blood; in the other, a pitch-black, lusterless sleek stiletto with a curved blade screamed with a faint and almost unheard cry, seeming to absorb the light around it.

Around Northern, the others fought desperately, their expressions a blend of determination and terror.

Alystren's eyes were wide, panic laced with a dark resolve as he hacked at a beast lunging for him, his blade carving through putrid flesh with a sickening wetness.