The morning sun rose over the village, casting a golden glow over the aftermath of the battle. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and smoke as the warriors tended to their wounds and surveyed the damage.

Brielle stood at the edge of the village, her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of movement. The enemy forces had retreated under the cover of darkness, but she knew they would return. They always did.

“We need to be ready,” she said to Marcus, who stood beside her, his expression grave. “They’ll be back, and they’ll be stronger.”

Marcus nodded, his jaw set with determination. “We can’t afford to...