After Ragnar's desperate leap off the cliff, a stunned silence fell over the pursuers. None of them had anticipated such a drastic move. The cliff had always been considered a boundary—a point beyond which no sane person would go. But Ragnar had defied that logic, throwing himself into the abyss.
Temar stood there, dumbfounded. His crazed grin vanished, replaced by shock as Ragnar disappeared from view. "No, you don't!!!" he roared, his voice echoing through the canyon as he dashed toward the edge. He could not—*would not*—let Ragnar slip away so easily. But just as he was about to jump after him, a firm hand gripped his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks.
"Don't even think about it, Temar," a cold voice warned.
Temar turned his head sharply to see the Mistborn leader standing beside him, his expression stern and unmoved. The Mistborn's grip on Temar's arm was unyielding, sending a clear message.