The mana-powered carriage slowed to a halt, its faint hum fading as the three passengers stepped down—Trafalgar, Garrika, and Leon. The air felt heavier here, as if even the breeze carried the weight of wealth and judgment.
Leon looked pale, sweat dripping down his temple despite the shade. He couldn't hide it. Everything that had unfolded until now—his reckless gamble in the mines, his betrayal—was his fault. Trafalgar was still breathing only because he had reacted fast in that moment of chaos. If he hadn't… all the effort he'd poured into surviving these past months would have gone to waste.
