He looked ahead, the captain was turning around, taking a deep breath: "Maintain the line."
The latter's voice wasn't loud, seemingly uncertain whether this battle would be fortunate or dire. Yet he stood like a solemn statue, his gaze indifferent, body upright, regardless of the outcome, he had already made a decision - the rest would be determined by the sword in his hand.
The flames on the Ancient Treant had extinguished, and the severely injured it silently looked at the humans before it, as if, as the Heart of Tree said, among them there was righteousness and greed, cowardice and bravery, good and evil all together. The previous moment they were henchmen of demons, but in the next moment they faced the strong enemy directly, wielding the sword and the truth.
Holy Choosers, truly a complex group of beings.
