The monstrous tide drew closer.
The first clash was imminent.
Above—
contrary to the plan—
one of the four chosen to fight at the end moved early.
Snow Lionheart drew Vermithor in his right hand ...
and Slytherin, the blade he had taken from Nito, in his left.
His body was enveloped in his war form as he prepared to descend.
But his decision did not sit well with the others.
"Where do you think you're going?! Get back here—your time hasn't come yet!"
Kalameet snapped, clearly irritated as Snow broke formation.
Snow didn't even look at him.
"I'm going. Against that number… they won't survive."
His words were likely true.
But Kalameet wasn't convinced.
He disliked how quickly Snow gave in to the pressure—
to the point that he nearly stepped forward to stop him himself.
Then Frey raised a hand, stopping him.
"Go," Frey said calmly.
"But conserve your strength. The real battle hasn't even begun."
Frey sided with Snow.
Snow smiled faintly and nodded.
