The rhythm of the battlefield had changed.

At first, it had been chaos on the human side. Fear, broken lines, scattered resistance. But now, there was structure. Orders were being followed. Groups were moving together instead of dying alone.

They were adapting.

And at the center of it all... one man.

Voss.

His voice carried across the battlefield, cutting through panic, pulling men back together, turning what should have been a collapse into something that could still resist.

Carrion’s gaze fixed on him.

Then he stepped forward.

The ground cracked under his foot as he pushed off.

He didn’t run.

He surged.

The distance between them closed in an instant.

"Captain!" one of the mercenaries shouted. "He’s coming!"

Voss turned.

And the moment he saw Carrion heading straight for him, he understood immediately.

"...So you finally noticed me," he muttered.

There was no hesitation.

"Formation!" Voss barked. "Now!"

Two figures moved instantly.

Both body tempering practitioners from the Lost Bears.

One to his left, and one to his right.

They didn’t ask questions.

They had trained for this.

The three of them shifted positions in a single smooth motion, their spacing precise, their footing grounded, their breathing steadying as they aligned with each other.

A triangle.

"Lock it in," Voss said, his voice low now.

The two men nodded.

It wasn’t just three individuals anymore.

It was one unit.

Carrion arrived.

His blade came down without warning, a heavy, crushing strike aimed straight at Voss.

"Brace!" Voss shouted.

The man on his left stepped in first, shield raised, taking the initial impact.

The sound rang out like metal breaking.

The force drove him back half a step.

At the same time, the one on the right moved.

His spear shot forward, aiming for Carrion’s side.

Carrion shifted slightly, letting the strike glance off his armor, but that moment was enough.

Voss stepped in.

His saber flashed.

A clean, precise strike aimed at Carrion’s neck.

Clang.

Carrion raised his arm just in time, the blade scraping against dark metal.

For a brief second, all three of them were in motion.

Covering each other.

"Don’t stop!" Voss snapped.

The formation moved again.

The left guard rotated back, recovering.

The right stepped forward, and pressing the attack.

Voss shifted with them, always at the center, always where he needed to be.

Three against one.

But it didn’t feel like that.

Carrion’s strength was overwhelming.

Each strike carried weight that forced them to adjust, to redirect, to rely on each other completely.

Carrion swung again.

This time wider.

The impact forced all three to shift at once, their formation bending but not breaking.

"...Interesting," Carrion said quietly. "You can endure."

His voice carried no strain.

Voss smirked faintly, though sweat was already running down the side of his face.

"We don’t just endure," he said. "We bite back."

As if on cue, the man on the right lunged again.

This time faster.

His spear aimed for Carrion’s knee.

At the same moment, the left guard stepped in from behind, shield slamming forward to disrupt his balance.

And Voss...

Voss went straight for the kill.

His blade cut low, then shifted upward in a sharp arc toward Carrion’s throat.

For the first time, Carrion stepped back.

Carrion slid back just enough for the blade to miss his throat, the edge scraping across his armor and throwing sparks into the air. For a brief moment, the three men had space again.

Then Carrion straightened.

He looked at them, not as targets, but as something worth measuring.

"Not bad," he said, his voice calm, almost approving. "Humans."

The three didn’t relax.

If anything, their grips tightened.

Voss exhaled slowly, never taking his eyes off Carrion. He could feel it. That pressure had changed. It wasn’t the same as before.

"...Careful," he muttered. "He’s been holding back."

Carrion adjusted his stance, his weapon lowering slightly at his side. The movement looked simple, almost casual, but the air around him grew heavier, like something unseen had just settled over the ground.

"Then I will also get serious now," Carrion said.

The moment those words left him, he moved.

This time, there was no warning.

No build up.

He vanished from where he stood.

"Above!" the man on the right shouted instinctively.

Carrion came down from above in the same instant, his blade crashing toward them with a force that didn’t just aim to cut, but to crush everything beneath it.

"Together!" Voss roared.

The left guard stepped in first, raising his shield with both hands, planting his feet hard into the ground.

The impact hit like a falling boulder.

The sound exploded outward, loud enough to drown the battlefield for a split second.

The guard’s knees buckled.

"Hold!" he gritted out, veins rising along his neck as the shield trembled under the weight.

At the same time, the man on the right didn’t hesitate. He stepped in close, too close for comfort, his spear thrusting upward toward Carrion’s exposed side.

But Carrion didn’t even look at it.

His arm shifted slightly, deflecting the spear just enough to ruin its angle, letting it scrape uselessly along his armor.

Then he pushed down.

Voss stepped in.

Not retreating.

His blade flashed forward, aiming not at Carrion’s body, but at the wrist holding the weapon.

"Now!" he shouted.

The man on the right followed instantly, abandoning his previous strike and redirecting, aiming for Carrion’s leg instead.

Carrion did not pull back.

Instead, he let the attack come together, watching the timing, the coordination, the trust between the three of them.

Then he broke it.

His wrist twisted at the last second, not to block, but to redirect. Voss’s blade slid off course, sparks jumping as steel scraped against that unnatural armor. At the same time, Carrion shifted his weight forward instead of resisting, letting the spear glance past him as he stepped inside their formation.

Too close.

That single step ruined everything.

"Back!" Voss barked, but it was already too late.

Carrion’s shoulder slammed into the shield bearer first. The impact was not just strength. It was controlled, deliberate, aimed to break balance instead of bone. The man staggered sideways, his footing gone, his guard opened for just a fraction of a second.

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