Lyra leaned against a shattered cart, binding her ribs with a length of scavenged cloth. She didn't look at her brother. Just stared toward the forest's edge, where the beasts had vanished.
"They'll be back," she muttered.
Caelen said nothing. He just nodded once.
From the highest wall, Ian turned his gaze toward the Blackblood horizon.
Even in retreat, the forest pulsed.
Like a heartbeat. Like breathing.
Evil still stirred behind those trees.
Something that hadn't yet shown its face.
And Ian knew—
Today was not their true test.
That was still to come.
—–—
The echo of steel and bone had barely settled when dawn slipped across Esgard, staining the city in muted gold.
From atop the broken east gate, Ian watched the new day begin—blood and dust shimmering in the low light, crucible fires still burning below, wardstones flickering with tired mana.
