'Eager to get back into the fight, huh?'
He tightened his grip.
Below, in the northern quarter, the pikemen finished off the last soul soldier pinned against the granary. The translucent figure flickered, dimmed, and vanished. A ragged cheer went up from the formation. The sergeant raised his pike and screamed victory.
Hope. They were finding hope. Every dispersed soul was proof that the enemy could be beaten. Every small victory rebuilt the conviction that they could outlast this nightmare and hold until reinforcements arrived.
Quinlan raised the saber.
"[Awaken]."
The blade screamed.
Light erupted from the steel, pale blue and blinding, pouring from the blade and cascading down the rooftops. The souls answered.
In the northern quarter, the pikemen had just finished their cheer. The sergeant was clapping a young soldier on the shoulder. Grins spread through the formation. They'd held. They'd fought the ghost soldiers and won. The tide was turning.
