Logan let the others continue the fight.
He saved his strength for the stronger beasts—those had yet to come. The ones in their path now were easily stomped by Scorch.
A barrage of radiant feathers rained from above—Uriel's doing—followed by searing arrows conjured by Rubina. Each shot lit the air with fire, bursting on impact and sending embers through small fry too weak for them to even stop to fight.
Where they passed, nothing remained but scorched ground and smoke.
And yet, despite the destruction, the trees around them remained largely untouched by flame, as if the smog in the air swallowed anything that produced light before it could spread.
Logan didn't think much about the journey so far that is—until something changed.
All noise had seized to exist, leaving only silence.
They could see nothing through the dark mist. Now, they couldn't hear anything either.
The trail ahead began to shift—widening unnaturally, as though opening to welcome them in.
