>>Draegon
Blood spattered across the cracked stone tiles as I staggered back, my breath ragged, my claws slick with the ichor of too many slain monsters. The sky was a lot lighter in color now and most of the horde had already been decimated. My men were exhausted, their bodies in tatters, their eyes hollow with strain. Many lay injured, their groans and coughs echoing through the battered halls of the palace grounds.
No matter how much I had trained them, this was still their first fight with the abyss monsters, thus the mass scale
But I couldn't rest. Not with her still standing.
The horned woman stood not far from me, her pristine white robes now streaked with black blood. Her posture remained eerily composed, hands once again clasped in front of her chest like a priestess in mourning. Despite the gut wound I had torn into her midsection with my claws, she was still upright. Still watching me with that same haunting calm.
