Kyle wiped the blood from his mouth, spitting crimson onto the scorched dirt.
His ribs throbbed with every breath, each inhale sharp like a dagger twisting in his side. But he forced himself to stand.
Around him, the others were stirring.
Cassian was getting up on shaky legs, bruises darkening his arms.
Serena gritted her teeth, her glaive sparking faintly as she pulled it from the ground.
Cedric stood just a few steps ahead, golden flames licking his shoulders. His eyes sharp and focused.
Across from them, Rodrick stood like an executioner in the middle of a battlefield. Calm. Towering.
That massive greatsword rested on his shoulder, and his face twisted with something between amusement and disgust.
"Pathetic," Rodrick muttered again, voice flat.
Then Cedric stepped forward.
His sword flared with golden fire...
No hesitation. No fear. The very air shimmered from the heat pouring off it.
"We're not done yet," Cedric said, his voice low and steady.
