Gasps of astonishment echoed through the ranks of the group as they witnessed the unthinkable. The Dark Knight, once defeated and lifeless, now rose from the ground, his body restored to its former strength and vitality. Once vacant and lifeless, his eyes now burned with a malevolent gleam.
A sense of dread settled over the battlefield as it became apparent that Tenebres, with his mastery over time and manipulation, had granted the fallen warrior a second chance. The group's hard-fought victory had been nullified, their hopes of vanquishing the Dark Knight shattered by this twisted resurrection.
"What the hell… isn't this a bit too much?" Aion thought. "Still, considering that he can manipulate time and space, this should be an easy play for him."
As if the group was already ready for that, they soon resumed their fighting stances; if Malon defeated the enemy, he could do it again, no sweat. While they did that, Aion wondered if he could save that dream to watch it later with full focus. It has been a while since he binge-watched anything, and that seemed like an interesting series to do so.
Things didn't end there, though… the enemy, as usual, had more than a few more cards to play. It was a like a yugi-oh duel where the enemy could use draw ten times each turn, even when the heroes had six people on their side.
Tenebres opened more portals with a wave of his hand; the very fabric of reality seemed to warp and twist. From these portals emerged adversaries that the group had previously defeated, their forms distorted and twisted by the dark magic that had brought them back from the abyss.
One by one, the enemies materialized on the battlefield, their once-lifeless bodies reanimated by Tenebres' twisted time magic. They bore the scars and wounds that had been inflicted upon them in their previous encounters, serving as haunting reminders of the battles they had fought and the victories they had achieved.
The group watched in disbelief and frustration as their former foes, thought to be vanquished, stood once again in their path. The revived enemies were infused with an unholy energy, their eyes gleaming with a malevolent light that mirrored the darkness within their resurrected forms.
A mix of anger and determination coursed through the group as they faced these familiar adversaries. They understood that this battle was not only a fight against Tenebres but a test of their resolve and growth. The enemies they had defeated before now stood as challenges to be overcome once again, their reappearance a cruel reminder of the cyclical nature of their struggles.
"Don't let this sway you!" Malon shouted. "These guys are nothing! We defeated them once, and we will defeat them again! Their bodies and spirits can only be repaired so many times!"
Everyone nodded in understanding. Now Aion could recognize the Malon that he faced in the tower. He even managed to notice that before Aion… it was evident that those guys couldn't be revived endlessly. They could see that the dark knight was a lot more silent than before… he had probably been killed a bunch of times already.
In any case, the group began to fight the enemies that had been revived a bunch of times. In the midst of the fierce battle, each member of the group fought valiantly against the resurrected enemies that had once been defeated. Swords clashed, spells erupted, and arrows soared through the air. The battlefield was a whirlwind of chaos and determination.
Amidst the fray, Siora's heart pounded within her chest as she caught a glimpse of Tenebres, her own father, among the chaos. A mixture of emotions swirled within her as she locked eyes with him, hoping for some flicker of recognition, some trace of the bond they once shared. However, her hopes were quickly shattered as it became evident that Tenebres did not recognize her at all.
A wave of sorrow washed over Siora, threatening to consume her in its depths. She fought to maintain her focus, to push aside her personal pain, and to fulfill her duty alongside her comrades. With each strike, each maneuver, she poured her emotions into her attacks, using them as fuel to drive her forward.
Though her heart ached at her father's apparent indifference, Siora refused to be defeated by her own emotions. She drew strength from the support and unity of her companions, their presence a reminder that she was not alone in her struggle. Together, they fought as a cohesive unit, their combined efforts a testament to their unwavering resolve.
With each clash against the resurrected enemies, Siora sought to prove her own worth, to demonstrate that she was more than just the daughter of a tyrant. The battles became a metaphorical battlefield for her own journey of self-discovery and redemption. Through her actions, she sought to forge her own path, separate from the shadow of her father's legacy.
Eventually, the enemies were defeated, and Tenebres nodded in acknowledgment; he was getting pretty entertained by the fights, but he didn't want to join it yet, so he just revived his minions yet again.
After a grueling and relentless battle against the resurrected enemies, the group found themselves exhausted and weary. Beads of sweat trickled down their brows, and their breaths came in ragged gasps. Each member stood amidst the aftermath, their bodies aching and muscles trembling from the exertion.
Their faces bore the signs of weariness, smudged with dirt and streaked with traces of dried sweat. Fatigue weighed heavily upon their shoulders, threatening to bring them to their knees. Yet, despite their exhaustion, their spirits remained unbroken, fueled by the resilience that burned within their hearts.
They gathered together, forming a huddled circle, seeking solace and support from one another. Sweat-soaked and dirt-streaked, they exchanged weary glances and shared a nod of acknowledgment. The battle had taken its toll, pushing them to their limits, but they had endured. They were going to endure for much longer
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