The Strombringer

 She chuckled, I am an angel, but not the angel of death. She said something else, but Darvin could not hear for he was about to die. The blond-haired lady placed her hand over his eyes and a white light emitted and covered his whole body.

"Wake up, wake up," a voice whispered in Darven's ear.

A thunderous roar erupted from the heavens, shaking the very earth beneath them. It was not just a sound—it was power, raw and terrifying. From the clouds above, a figure descended. Cloaked in lightning, he landed with a force that sent shockwaves rippling through the grass. His armor gleamed like tempered silver, and his eyes burned with an unnatural light. He carried no weapon, yet the air crackled around his fists.

For a moment, silence. Then, with a single motion, he raised his hand, and the storm answered. Bolts of lightning crashed into the enemy ranks, sending monsters sprawling, weapons melting under the heat.

Darven, barely able to stand, looked up in awe. Who was this man? A god? A warrior from another realm?

The stranger turned to him, his voice deep as rolling thunder. "Stand, warrior. Your battle is not over yet."

Darven was in awe, he could stand.All his injured men were also fine; its as if he was never injured in the first place.

Was this her doing? She healed me! .

I know you have questions, but don't you have a battle to finish

"Yes, sorry, and thank you", he said to her

Darven quickly regained his composure and ordered his men back into formation.

The battlefield was silent, save for the distant growls of the monstrous horde gathering at the edge of the meadow. Darven and his warriors stood in awe, gripping their weapons tightly, their breath still caught from witnessing the impossible.

The man who had appeared from the sky—a warrior of thunder and light—stood before them, eyes glowing with untamed power. The air around him crackled, his presence alone making the very storm above swirl in response.

Darven swallowed his hesitation and stepped forward. "Who are you?" he asked.

The stranger turned, his gaze piercing yet calm. "That does not matter. What matters is the battle ahead." He pointed to the shadows beyond the meadow, where grotesque creatures with jagged claws and hollow, glowing eyes lurked, waiting. "They have come to devour this land. Will you fight?"

Darven exchanged glances with his men. They were exhausted—but warriors nonetheless. If this stranger had come to fight, then they would stand beside him.

He raised his sword high. "We fight!"

A deafening howl erupted from the enemy lines, and the monsters charged.

The battle was chaos. Darven and his men clashed steel against flesh, cutting through the abominations. The creatures were strong—unnatural, their bodies twisting with dark energy—but then the Stormbringer unleashed his fury.

With a sweep of his hand, lightning danced across the battlefield, striking down monsters in waves. Thunder cracked as he moved like a tempest incarnate, fists charged with raw energy, hurling bolts that shattered enemies where they stood.

Darven fought by his side, feeling an otherworldly surge of courage. He had never fought alongside one with such power before—but in this moment, they were comrades, warriors standing against the dark.

The battle rages on, but as long as the storm roared, hope remained.

And with that, the tide of war changed.