The moment Emma saw Marcellus's face go pale and his energy falter, she quickly stepped forward and cried out:
"I'll take you there! Livia should be fine! I left a marker before we split—follow me, quickly!"
Without another word, she spun around and sprinted toward the eastern edge of the ruins. The gray-white morning mist hadn't fully lifted, but Emma moved without hesitation, swiftly tracing the secret signs she had carved. She darted through shattered stones and crumbling walls.
Marcellus and Elias followed close behind, several soldiers jogging after them, not daring to fall behind.
Emma's heart pounded wildly. All she could think of was the look Livia had given her the last time they parted—calm, resolute, and filled with an unspoken trust.
She buried the guilt and anxiety gnawing at her, praying they'd make it in time—just a little faster, and they might still reach her.
But just as they neared the end of the passageway, a figure suddenly stumbled out of a partially collapsed cave entrance.
In that instant, time seemed to stop.
It was her.
Livia.
Dust covered her from head to toe. Her long hair was in disarray, her cloak tattered and clinging to her shoulders. There were streaks of dirt across her face, but her back remained straight—like someone who'd fought tooth and nail just to emerge from the abyss.
Emma was the first to rush forward. She grabbed Livia's arm and choked out:
"Why are you out here alone? Are you—are you okay—?"
Before Livia could respond, a voice rang out—so familiar that her heart skipped a beat.
"Livia!"
She turned and saw Marcellus hurrying toward her, ignoring his injuries. His face no longer wore its usual calm but was filled with raw panic and overwhelming relief. He pulled her into a fierce embrace, almost crushing her to him, as if trying to fuse her into his very being.
"You're alive… you're really alive… I thought… I thought…"
His words tumbled out in pieces, his eyes red with emotion. Dried blood still streaked his face, but nothing could hide the flood of feelings now laid bare.
Livia froze for a heartbeat, then slowly lifted her arms and returned the embrace. Her voice was hoarse, but impossibly gentle:
"I'm fine… I'm back."
Elias came up beside them, letting out a breath of relief when he saw she was unharmed. His gaze swept over the pair who had returned from the brink of death. Then, quietly, he asked:
"Did he hurt you? Did you escape on your own?"
Livia nodded and forced a faint smile.
"They withdrew… I crawled out through a gap in the back… thankfully Emma's markers were clear, so I—"
She didn't finish. Her knees gave out beneath her.
"Livia!"
Marcellus caught her just in time. Her body felt cold as snow, so weak it seemed to have no warmth at all.
Livia leaned against his chest, eyelashes trembling. Her lips were pale, but she gave him one last look and whispered:
"I'm okay… really…"
Before the last word left her lips, she passed out.
Marcellus's face changed instantly. He scooped her up and shouted:
"Quick—she's lost too much blood! Get the medic! Take her back to camp—now!"
Emma followed close behind, lips tightly pressed together, her heart churning with emotions. Elias, calm and steady, gave sharp orders:
"Seal off the area. Check every movement. No one else is to approach."
As Livia slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing she heard was Marcellus's voice, calling her name again and again by her ear.
Warm, frantic, clumsy—
But unwavering.
She knew now, she was safe.