Chapter 1537: The Fragile Accord

The camp was quiet in the aftermath of the battle, a stark contrast to the chaos that had consumed it only hours earlier. The surviving soldiers moved among the wreckage, tending to the wounded and gathering the fallen. The air was heavy with smoke, blood, and an unspoken tension that lingered like a shadow over the fragile alliance.

Aiden stood at the edge of the battlefield, his sword planted in the ground beside him. His armor was battered, and blood—some his, some not—streaked his face and arms. He stared out into the distance, where the remnants of the abyss had vanished into the gloom.

"They'll be back," Elara said, approaching him. Her voice was soft, but her words carried a grim certainty. She had discarded her helmet, and her hair was damp with sweat.

"I know," Aiden replied without looking at her. "And next time, they'll be stronger."

"We'll be ready," she said, though she didn't sound entirely convinced.