[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Xpb1VAn.png[/img][/center]
Chaotic emotions, fear, anger, despair, suffused the trodden fields just as thickly as viscera and offal of men and monsters alike. They cried and they roared, stronger warriors falling against greater numbers, even as their leader tried what he could to bolster morale. And yet, even in this seething cauldron of conflict, Ying Yue danced unconcerned. Others may die, but she was above such paltry terrors, not even the blood of her foes having stained her form. The rope, once red with rich dyes, was now heavy with the lives it had taken, striking with ever-increasing force.

One of the warriors called out towards her, and she turned to spare a smile. Some of them were worth keeping around, at least. The dead man’s attitude didn’t drip down into his men. An arrow whistled past, and her eyes followed as it practically vaporized three other dogmen. Her eyes shone.

[color=FF7F50][i]Let’s try that.[/i][/color]

Fortunately, with the lines having been broken, there were plenty of dead archers for her to borrow from. Snatching up a quiver and a longbow, Ying Yue rolled under the swing of one kobold, hopped over the lunge of another kobold, and let out a breath. There it was again, that deathly certainty that told her that she could kill with this. The lady nocked three arrows, noted both the groan of the wood and the relative ease of her pull, and fired. A roar of wind, and the area right in front of her cleared up in an instant. She smiled, fired five more times, then frowned. Powerful, but boring. The bow was discarded without another thought, and Ying Yue pulled a sword out of the grasp of a headless knight instead. An artless construction, nothing like the weapons of yore, but the steel had been well-maintained. It sang as she flourished it, and thrummed when she turned towards the largest of the dogmen.

[color=FF7F50][b]“Do not fall to your knees so readily, woman,”[/b][/color] Ying Yue chided, mahogany gaze sliding sideways onto the priestess. [color=FF7F50][b]“It would be pitiful if so few remain to attend your comrade’s funeral.”[/b][/color]

Already, her compatriot was leading a charge through the horde towards the big dogman, and Ying Yue ran to follow, a warrior’s sword slipping through flesh and bone with such ease that the monsters only fell apart two seconds after she had passed. Soon, she was at the vanguard with Zhao, a wider smile on her face at the hilarity of the vulgarities that the woman spewed.

Her gaze, however, was set solely on the big dogman’s tomahawks.

[color=FF7F50][i]Let’s try that.[/i][/color]