The battle, once a cacophony of shouts and clashing steel, fell silent.
The clearing reeked of burnt fur and singed earth, a grim testament to the swift and brutal fight. Alex lowered his sword, the fire dying down to embers.
He scanned the scene, his gaze flickering from the fallen goblins to Brittany and the now-dissipating light knight, and finally settling on Marlowe.
Her face, though pale. The adrenaline rush that had fueled Marlowe began to ebb, leaving behind a cold wave of self-doubt.
I-I can't… I can't stand together with them.
she thought, her eyes darting around the clearing.
Marlowe felt exposed, a weak link amidst the whirlwind of power displayed by Alex and Brittany. She hadn't even landed a single blow, relying solely on Brittany's light knight to save her life. Shame burned in her throat, acrid and bitter.