Chapter 103: The Ziggurat Awaited

The storm continued to churn above the battlefield, its dark clouds swirling with an almost sentient malice. Crimson lightning forked through the sky, illuminating the desert sands and casting eerie shadows over the battlefield. The remnants of the harbinger's army retreated into the dunes, their once-relentless assault broken by James and his companions' unyielding resolve.

But the air still carried the weight of Resheph's curse. It was as if the land itself recoiled in agony, each gust of wind whispering of the darkness yet to come.

James, his chest heaving and wings still unfurled, stood at the edge of the battlefield. He scanned the horizon, his dragon senses heightened and on edge. His glowing horns pulsed faintly, a reflection of the energy coursing through him. The victory over the Warden had been hard-fought, but it felt hollow. The looming presence of something far greater lingered, just beyond the veil.