So, this was the worst-case scenario.
No backup.
No Arlon.
No June.
Just the seven of them, surrounded in a pit of endless Keldars, fighting what was quickly becoming an impossible battle.
They were strong. They had trained for this. But this—this wasn't a raid. This wasn't a dungeon boss.
This was war.
And they were deep in enemy territory, with no way out.
For a moment, silence settled between the clashes of steel and the screeches of dying Keldars.
Then Carole's voice broke through it.
"Don't worry," she said, her tone steady. "We'll win today."
At first, it sounded like bravado. Empty hope. Something someone said when they had nothing else to offer.
The others heard her, but none responded.
They were too focused. Too aware of how slim their chances were.
But Carole's words weren't empty.
She wasn't just trying to raise morale.
She believed it.
Because she wasn't just a healer.
Among them, she was the closest thing they had to a true mage.
