Chapter 18
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From a distant ledge, the cloaked villain observed silently, a malicious smile twisting beneath the hood.
"You are growing strong," the figure whispered, low and deliberate. "But strength alone will not save you."
Lyra shivered, unaware of the presence, instinctively tightening her grip on the shard. Danger was always closer than it seemed. The wind carried a faint, metallic scent, and the shadows at the edge of the forest seemed to shift unnaturally, curling toward her like living fingers.
Kaelen's voice broke through the tension, calling for a moment of regrouping, but even he sensed the unease that had settled over the party. Every step forward felt heavier, as if the very air were pressing against them.
The forest whispered secrets in a language only the brave could decipher, and Lyra felt the shard pulse in her hand, warning of unseen threats. Her eyes darted to every dark shape, every swaying branch. Something was moving just beyond sight, watching, calculating.
The villain's eyes glimmered beneath the hood, savoring the anticipation. Shadows were no longer merely absence of light—they were harbingers, stirring with intent. And as night crept closer, the heroes realized that the Veil of Fractures had only begun to test them.
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