The battlefield surged with chaos.
Karr's eyes flashed with determination. Seeing the bandits distracted, he lunged forward and headbutted the nearest one, knocking him off balance.
"NOW!" he shouted.
Mei and Vivian sprang into action—Mei kicking a second bandit square in the chest while Vivian slammed her shoulder into another.
The bandit leader's face turned a deep shade of red as he witnessed the uprising. "Kill them!" he bellowed. "Get those captives back in the cage! NOW!"
With a snarl, he hefted his massive axe and stormed toward the chaos—only to meet Garret, who stepped into his path like a living wall.
"You want a fight?" Garret growled, eyes blazing. "I've been waiting for scum like you."
The two warriors clashed, their weapons colliding with bone-rattling force. Garret swung his greatsword in wide, brutal arcs, blocking the leader's ferocious axe strikes and answering with blows of his own that cracked the ground beneath them.
"Fight like a real warrior!" the leader spat.
"I am," Garret snarled. "You're just another thug hiding behind fear."
He ducked low beneath a heavy strike and delivered a punishing blow to the leader's ribs, sending him staggering back. "Come on!" Garret roared. "That's all you got?"
Meanwhile, as some bandits closed in on the captives to recapture them, Darius raised a hand and summoned a gust of slicing wind that shredded through three of them.
"Touch them, and you die," he said coldly.
Lior followed with a stomp, calling up jagged rocks from the earth that skewered two more, their bodies falling limp to the ground.
"We hold this ground," Lior added. "No one passes."
Darven, at the edge of the arena, found himself locked in a brutal duel with one of the bandits'. The man was nearly his size, wielding a spiked club. Darven met him with raw force, parrying heavy blows and driving his axe into the man's shoulder, only to be knocked back with a sweeping strike.
"You hit hard," Darven growled, wiping blood from his lip. "But I hit harder."
With a roar, he surged forward. "You're not stopping me," he muttered.
From above, Selis and Rina rained death from the rooftops, picking off bandits who tried to flank the rescue team.
"Left flank, two incoming!" Selis shouted.
"Got them," Rina replied, firing two arrows in rapid succession.
The camp was a storm of fire, steel, and blood—adventurers and city soldiers now flooding in to support the assault. The clash of steel and the battle cries of trained fighters echoed louder as Algora's soldiers poured through the broken gates.
One of the soldiers raised his blade and shouted, "Push through! Protect the prisoners!"
"Algora stands with you!" another cried.
The bandit ranks began to break under the combined force of adventurers and soldiers. The balance of power had shifted.
Garret's broad frame stood like a bastion of defiance, his greatsword gleaming in the torchlight. Across from him, the bandit leader grinned behind a crude iron mask, his massive axe resting on his shoulder.
"You're not walking out of here," Garret growled, slamming his blade onto his shoulder.
The leader chuckled, circling him. "Big sword, big mouth. Let's see if you can back it up."
With a howl, the leader charged, swinging the axe in a vicious arc. Garret met it with a block that sent sparks flying, then spun to deliver a crushing horizontal slash that the leader barely dodged. Dirt erupted as steel bit into the ground.
Their duel became a storm of movement—Garret's strikes were heavy, deliberate, each one strong enough to cleave a man in two. He kept his center low, movements grounded and precise, forged from years of training and discipline.
But the leader was no brute alone; he moved like a jackal, ducking, weaving, using feints and cheap shots to throw Garret off rhythm. Twice he faked a stumble, only to slash at Garret's legs with deadly intent.
Garret snarled as a shallow cut opened on his thigh. "You fight like a rat."
"Rats survive," the leader hissed, backing off and tossing a small powder bomb from his belt. It exploded in a flash, blinding light and smoke filling the air. Garret stepped back, shielded his eyes, then pressed forward with sheer instinct, swinging through the haze.
His sword caught the leader's axe mid-swing, knocking it aside. He followed with a brutal shoulder slam that sent the leader tumbling. Garret leapt, blade raised—but the leader rolled, hurling a dagger at his exposed side. It scratched his ribs, drawing blood.
Garret grunted, planted his feet, and raised his sword. "Let me show you the difference between a bandit's trickery and a warrior's strength."
He advanced with thunderous momentum, each strike faster than the last. The leader blocked once, twice- then Garret twisted mid-swing and landed a crushing elbow into the man's jaw. The leader reeled, and Garret swung his sword upward in a brutal arc, sending the axe flying from his hands. One final spinning blow sent the bandit crashing to the dirt.
Elsewhere in the arena, Darven grunted as his axe clashed with the spiked club of a hulking bandit nearly as tall as he was.
"You're tough," the bandit growled, swinging with both hands. "But you're not tougher than me!"
Darven ducked the club's wild swing and slammed his axe into the man's ribs. The brute roared, grabbed Darven by the shoulder, and headbutted him. Blood burst from Darven's nose as he stumbled back.
"Still standing," Darven muttered, shaking off the daze. "Good. That means it's my turn."
They clashed again, weapons ringing. The brute caught Darven's axe shaft and tried to wrench it away, but Darven drove a knee into his stomach, then twisted and slammed his elbow into the man's temple. The club swung high—but Darven ducked low, then surged up with a roar and embedded his axe into the bandit's side.
The brute gasped, eyes wide, and dropped to his knees. Darven yanked his weapon free and shoved him to the ground.
"Not tougher," Darven muttered. "Just slower."
The battlefield roared around them, but for those few moments, their victories carved hope into the hearts of the watching captives and fighters alike.