"The undead are being pushed back! Everyone, advance!" Reginald bellowed, his voice carrying like a warhorn across the bloodstained battlefield.
The warriors roared in unison, a guttural cry of fury and renewed strength. Their blades, dulled with ichor and grime, raised once more. They surged forward with Reginald at the helm, cleaving through the scattered undead with a vengeance born of desperation and hope. Their momentum surged. The tide was shifting.
Morale coursed through their veins like fire. The despair from earlier was gone—replaced with sharpened instincts, heightened reflexes, and eyes blazing with battle fury. Reginald led the charge like a stormbreaker, his strikes opening a path that his men followed without hesitation.
"Go, go, go!" Rein's voice rang from the rear lines. "Unleash everything!"
