Chapter 33:Lyferia

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Spears and arrows filled the air like a deadly rain as the Navo'ri men desperately aimed to strike down the flame wing. It continued to spread its raging inferno across the grassland, creating a wall of searing flames that made it nearly impossible for the army to reach their beleaguered captain and his companion. The wails of burning men echoed through the battlefield as they struggled to flee from the merciless fire.

Amidst the chaos, a horde of wraiths joined the fray, their ethereal forms untouched by the roaring flames. They surged forward like a tide of luminous spirits, adding another layer of confusion and danger to the battle.

Fernan, observing the advancing wraiths and the havoc wrought by the flame wing, momentarily let his guard down. Vorgalhon seized the opportunity, delivering a swift and well-aimed kick to Fernan's gut, causing him to lose his balance. Vorgalhon then charged toward Lyferia, swinging his club in a powerful arc aimed at her head.

Lyferia, her senses razor-sharp and her instincts honed through years of experience, swiftly stepped back, lowering her stance. Her wisk danced over making intricate patterns etched onto her jotter. In an instant, mere inches away from a potentially devastating blow, a dog sized creature with layers of tough, leafy scales materialized from the ground. This creature was known as a "vine hog." Its vine-like appendages swiftly coiled around Vorgalhon's club and a significant portion of his body, restraining his movements and halting the lethal arc of his weapon.

Vorgalhon's anguished screams filled the air as he desperately wrestled with the relentless grip of the vine hog's vine-like appendages. His struggles were in vain, and he found himself thoroughly ensnared in the creature's coiling embrace.

Lyferia, her eyes fixed on the wave of glowing figures blanketing the grasslands, recognized the urgency of the situation. The fire bird continued its attempts to engulf the horde of wraiths in flames, but these ethereal beings remained impervious to its fiery assault.

"We need to go," she declared. Fernan, standing by her side, was prepared to take action.

"Leave them to me," Fernan responded without hesitation. He was ready to stand his ground and face the approaching wraiths.

Lyferia, however, shot him a disapproving look, her eyes filled with exasperation. "This is not the time for your reckless bloodlust," she scolded. "Your blade won't even scratch their boot. You know this."

Fernan hesitated for a moment but ultimately realized the wisdom in Lyferia's words. The group of children and elders, led by Pontius, was already retreating to a safer distance.

"Free the children and the elders from their chain now," Lyferia ordered Fernan.

Fernan swiftly moved to fulfill his ordered task, the blade of his sword  making quick work of the heavy chain link. The iron links clattered to the ground like a cascade of falling rocks, and the prisoners' shackles were no more.

"Run toward Iron Hold!" Lyferia's voice rang out, urgency etched in every syllable. However, many of the Xeldorian prisoners hesitated, confusion clouding their actions. Pontius, his anxiety evident, nervously inquired,

"Have you lost your mind, Lyferia? We were taken there as prisoners."

But Lyferia remained resolute, her gaze fixed on the advancing wraiths. Her wisk flicked through her jotter , tracing intricate lines that soon formed a mysterious image. She continued, "You cannot outrun them, no matter which direction you choose. We will find safety behind the walls."

With her final, resolute stroke, a loud cracking sound reverberated across the field. Without warning, the earth beneath their feet began to tremble and convulse, as mounds of soil and rocks shifted and surged forward, resembling an unstoppable avalanche bearing down on the approaching horde.

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