"That should be the last one." Asher muttered, yanking his sword free from the shattered skull of a Nexulith.
"Yeah." Liam stood amidst the carnage, rain pouring over him, washing away the blood that clung to his uniform.
Asher's gaze lifted to the shadowed figure perched atop the mountain. His blue eyes burned with their usual intensity. "Now, we just have that bastard left."
Liam followed his line of sight, expression unreadable. "Yeah… but let's be real. Even if we fight it together, we're dead either way."
Asher exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. "You're not wrong. My myst reserves are below fifty percent." His lips curled slightly, but there was no humor in his voice. "I wonder if Sheila and the others are still standing. Tch. How pathetic of me to hope for backup."
"Doesn't matter," Liam said, voice as cold and detached as ever. "Whether they live or not, that thing needs to die."
