[Event] [Elven Utopian War] [83] James Raven VS Durathiel Ruvelion

The world around Alvara faded into nothingness.

The clash of steel weapons, crashing waves, the distant cries of sea birds, the murmurs of the wind—all of it vanished. Only one sound remained, echoing through the wooden deck.

Bryelle's blood.

Her little sister's blood.

Bryelle's once-bright eyes were half-lidded, unfocused, her lips parted as if she had something to say—but the words never came. They never would.

Lykhor yanked his sword from her chest, the slick steel sliding free with a squelch. Bryelle collapsed, her fragile body crumpling into the growing pool of blood beneath her. The warmth in her gaze faded, swallowed by darkness.

Alvara didn't hear the sword leave its sheath. She didn't hear the ragged breath Lykhor took. But she saw his eyes—those dark eyes that pinned her in place.

Blame.

He didn't need to say it. She could feel it.

This was her fault.