Damien stood on a crumbling section of the southern wall, breathing hard, blood-streaked and silent. His blade pulsed with the rhythm of something not quite alive, something darker, older. It wasn't just steel anymore. It was a treasure fused with time and death energy.
The air reeked of ozone and charred flesh. The heat rising from the blood-soaked stone made the air shimmer like a mirage, but there was no illusion in what he saw. The southern gates had nearly fallen—twice.
The only reason they still stood was because Jiang Xiao Yu had frozen the advancing tide with a high grade seal that had shattered something deep in her core. Her breathing was shallow. She hadn't spoken since.
Around Damien, the last survivors of Pearl Institute and War God College fought with a fire that bordered on madness. Their eyes were wild. Their limbs shook. Their spells flared erratic and overcharged, as if they knew this was their final stand. And still… they fought.
