He raised his hand once more, another ice arrow forming above it. This time, however, he didn't launch it immediately. He glanced at Amelia and Lyra, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"How about a little teamwork? You two distract them, and I'll pick them off one by one."
Amelia and Lyra exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Then, with a shared grin, they nodded in agreement.
The remaining goblins, emboldened by a moment of reprieve, let out a collective battle cry and charged towards the unlikely trio.
The moon, a watchful eye in the inky black sky, had climbed to its zenith by the time the last goblin fell. The air hung heavy with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of burnt flesh. Exhaustion tugged at their limbs, sweat plastered their clothes to their bodies, and minor aches and cuts throbbed with a dull insistence. But a sense of accomplishment, a shared victory, resonated through them, washing away the fatigue for a moment.
