Dust still drifted through the broken bones of Crowmere Cathedral.
The ruins groaned under the weight of the clash that had just passed, as if the very stones remembered the silence that had ripped through them. My gauntlet smoldered, rainbow-black flames pulsing between my fingers. Kravius stood across the rubble, armor in tatters, blood running freely down his ribs. But his sword still burned silver, stubborn and alive, just like the man himself.
Neither of us moved at first. Only the sound of dripping blood and the crackle of broken fires filled the night.
Noa's voice trembled through the gauntlet, calm and sharp:
"Crown integrity sixty percent. Right arm stress critical. Enemy aura stable. Conclusion: prolonged engagement increases risk, My Lord."
I grinned through the blood at my lips. "I know."
