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" Zarri is not safe," Huona drawled, trying to dissuade the young elf

–no. This is not up for discussion. I'm coming with you, period!– strictly answered the girl, catching up with her hurrying sister.

The lizards tore down everything they saw in their path, sometimes smashing down stone structures, sometimes spitting acid on monastery gardens and houses. There was chaos all around, noise, confusion, the screams of wounded or burned guards mingling with the clang of steel swords against the tough scales of wyverns, maintaining an unbearable atmosphere of madness around the bacchanal. The dying Templars crawled along the blood-soaked ground in the hope of escaping, but the lizards caught up with them and tossed the pain-stricken elves into the air, playing with the bodies of the guards as a cat plays with a trapped mouse. Most of the inhabitants of the monastery settled in houses that the monsters, for unknown reasons, did not attack, passing through each house in pursuit of warlike templars and monks. It seemed that the lizardmen were selective in their goals, attacking only warriors and magic-wielding monks, but what was driving the unexpected rampage of the dragons, who had previously lived peacefully in their caves, only occasionally attacking passing caravans, was still a mystery. The monks were lost in the chaos, torn by difficult elections that would have a lot of consequences. There were guards who were slowly losing their vitality and needed to be helped to heal the warrior's wounds, for which you would most likely pay with your own life if you didn't have time to escape from the wyvern that had overtaken you. Or you can just run away from the battlefield, letting the poor guy die in the clutches of ferocious monsters, for which you will reproach yourself for a long time, realizing the weight of your guilt. Of course, most of the priests, ignoring possible remorse, hurriedly left the danger zone, locking themselves in the Monastery, like cowardly rodents hiding in their burrows in case of danger.

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