As the battle rages on, the defenders' lines begin to falter. The monsters press their advantage, their relentless assault driving the defenders back. The air is thick with the scent of blood and smoke, the ground slick with the fallen.
Seraphina's hand hovers over the communication crystal. She hesitates, torn between her duty to protect her people and the devastating consequences of using the artifact.
"Your Majesty," an old mage calls out, urgency in his voice. "The eastern wall has been breached. We can't hold them much longer."
Seraphina's eyes narrow, resolve hardening. She grips the crystal tightly, her voice steady.
"Prepare the artifact," she commands. "But do not activate it until I give the order."
The old mage nods, rushing to carry out her command. Seraphina turns back to the battlefield, her heart heavy with the weight of the decision before her.
"May the gods forgive me," she whispers.
