The air over Xerzes had barely settled.
Golden sunlight bathed the battlefield where the minotaur armies stood victorious, their weapons slick with the dissipating blood of Xal'dar's fallen minions. The guardians, Anna and Chryseis, stood firm, their flaming daggers still pulsing with residual magic. Smoke curled from the remains of all the explosions, leaving behind nothing but silence and scorched earth.
But the victory of the Xerzerians was short-lived.
A sickening hum filled the air, and another tear in the fabric of reality split open-this time, it was green and it opened up on the battlefield, sending tremors through the ground.
The Minotaur warriors tensed, gripped their weapons as one of their kings-Kailash, barked orders, his voices edged with unease.
"Take your positions, now!" he roared, his eyes scanning the battlefield.
The Minotaur warriors nodded, their horns glinting as they charged forward with a deafening bellow.