The world around them shimmered faintly, the once-scorched earth now cool beneath their feet. The air felt lighter — fresh, renewed, like the dungeon itself was finally exhaling after centuries of torment. But Shellia's body, after channeling the full essence of the Solara's Veil, trembled uncontrollably.
Her fingers slackened around the scepter's shaft. The radiant gold lines running through it pulsed one last time before dimming to a quiet silver. The divine warmth she had felt moments ago slipped away, leaving behind a cold emptiness that spread through her veins.
"Shellia!" Allen's voice cut through the soft rustle of the wind, his arms catching her before she collapsed completely. Her head fell against his shoulder, her breathing shallow.
Veyra rushed closer, her boots splashing against a puddle of purified water. "She's overdone it again," she said, kneeling beside them. "Her mana is completely drained."
