The storm had broken, but Marlic did not vanish. He withdrew into the caverns at the edge of the valley, shadow curling around him like armor. His ember eyes burned, dim but defiant.
He raised his spear, its smoke flickering weakly, and spoke to the fractured champions who remained.
"Do not mistake retreat for defeat. Dawn may scatter shadow, but night always returns. Flamebearer thinks she has won—she has only delayed her fall."
His voice echoed through the cavern walls, bitter and proud.
"I am grief itself. I am betrayal given form. Every torch that dies feeds me. Every memory of loss strengthens me. When dusk comes again, my storm will rise greater than before."
The champions bowed, their forms fractured but loyal. Marlic's laughter split the silence, sharp and cruel.
"Let her cling to dawn. Let her rebuild her fragile Ashbound. When night falls, I will tear the crown from her chest and bind flame to shadow forever."