Navida

Wrath

As Anna vanished into the night, leaving behind only the echoes of her elegance and the devastation she had wrought, the battlefield fell into a tense, unnatural silence, the rebels stood silently, still dumbfounded by the horrifying turn their mission had taken, their faces a mix of disbelief and despair.

The Navidian commander, however, seemed to have regained his smug composure. His beady eyes gleamed with twisted satisfaction as he turned his gaze back to the remaining rebels. The man who had cowered behind the formidable presence of Anna now puffed out his chest, the air of arrogance returning as if it had never left. His sneer grew wider as his eyes settled on Jacques, who remained frozen in place, his mind miles away from the battlefield.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the commander taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Another one lost in thought? Didn't you rebels learn anything from your precious leader? Or perhaps you're just waiting for your turn to die."

Jacques, still paralyzed by the emotional storm that had been unleashed within him, didn't react. The commander's eyes narrowed, and with a sadistic grin, he raised his arnite rod, which had now extended into a massive two-handed sword. The blade gleamed with his aura as he charged at Jacques, the sword's weight adding a terrifying force to his swing.

But just before the blade could connect, a flash of movement intercepted the strike. Reed, his face set in grim determination, blocked the commander's attack with his own weapon, the force of the blow sending a shockwave through the air. Beside him, Lina appeared, her stance defensive as she readied herself for the fight of her life.

"Stay away from him!" Reed snarled, his voice trembling with the weight of their dire situation. His arms shook as he struggled to hold back the commander's strength, but he refused to let the man get any closer to Jacques.

The commander chuckled darkly. "Ah, so there's still some fight left in you? How touching. But you're only delaying the inevitable."

The battle commenced with ferocity. Reed and Lina fought with everything they had, their movements fueled by desperation and the will to survive. They were outmatched in both skill and power, but they refused to back down. Every strike they made was calculated, every step a dance of life and death. Reed's face contorted in pain as he blocked another heavy blow from the commander's massive sword, while Lina weaved in and out of the fray, attempting to land precise strikes on their opponent.

But the commander was relentless. His sword carved through the air with brutal efficiency, its size and power overwhelming the rebels. He swung it with ease, forcing Reed and Lina on the defensive with each powerful strike. The sheer weight of the weapon made it difficult for them to parry or counterattack effectively, and the commander's mocking laughter echoed through the battlefield as he pressed his advantage.

Despite their best efforts, it became clear that they were fighting a losing battle. The commander's sneers and cruel taunts filled the air as he toyed with them, drawing out the fight as if savoring their struggle. "You think you can protect him? You think you can stop me? Pathetic. You're just as weak as your dear leader was," he spat, each word laced with venom.

Reed let out a frustrated growl as he lunged forward, aiming for the commander's throat, but the man sidestepped with ease, slashing at Reed's side with a powerful swing of his sword. Reed staggered back, clutching his wound, but still, he refused to fall.

Lina tried to use the opening to strike, her blade aimed at the commander's exposed back. But he was faster, twisting his body and bringing his massive sword around in a wide arc. The blade caught her in mid-strike, slashing through her waist with devastating force. She crumpled to the ground, her strength fading as blood pooled beneath her from the gaping wound, spilling out her guts.