Chapter 95 - Court of Chains

The silence that followed was not peace. It was pressure—a crushing, invisible force that stretched across the scorched battlefield like a second sky, heavier than the ash swirling above it. It pressed down on lungs, hearts, and thoughts—an unseen tide of consequence that no one could escape. The air was dense with things unspoken, unscreamed. Time seemed to falter, held hostage by something more ancient than law, more sacred than prophecy. Even the wind, which had howled moments ago through the broken pillars and charred remnants of the land, had fled. The ash hung mid-air, unmoving, suspended like a breath held too long. And the flames—those ever-burning flames that had raged since the first blade was drawn—dwindled to embers, as if the world itself had stopped to listen.