With the Necromancer Lord finally vanquished, Alaric felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of grim determination. The fortress was still teeming with demonic energy, and they had a long way to go. He dispersed the lingering azure glow of the Spirit Lion, feeling its powerful essence recede back into his core, ready to be called upon again if needed.
"Alright, everyone," Alaric said, his voice regaining its usual confident tone. "Let's keep moving. There are still plenty of these ugly mugs to deal with."
Lyra and Cassandra, both looking slightly winded but otherwise unharmed, nodded in agreement. The other human warriors, mostly Master Mages and Master Martialists who had survived the teleportation, gathered around them, their faces a mixture of relief and apprehension.
"That Necromancer Lord was far stronger than anything we've faced so far," Hilbert Pfeiffer said, wiping sweat from his brow.
