"Now, if you all want—come together."
Zorwath's voice rang across the battlefield, low and cold, like a bell tolling doom.
A shiver ran through every soldier's spine.
Shinroku spat blood onto the ground, eyes narrowing.
"You bastard... you think you're playing with children?" he murmured, his body swaying from wounds already taken.
The other generals looked at each other—torn, wounded, and exhausted—but unwilling to retreat.
Yet before anyone else could move—
Dharam stepped forward.
"I'll handle him," he said firmly, voice steady as iron.
"He's too arrogant."
Haider Ali's voice cut through the tension.
"But we should fight together!"
Dharam glanced back, eyes calm.
"Don't worry. I won't let him kill me."
"But I have to show him... he is no god."
Behind the front line, Aamir stood among the watching soldiers, heart pounding as he watched the lone figure of Dharam stride forward.
