At that time when Lucavion had left, the heavy iron door groaned as it shut behind Lucavion, leaving Ilyana and the other disciples in stunned silence. The faint echoes of his footsteps faded slowly into the oppressive quiet of the underground chamber, replaced only by the shallow, uneven breaths of those around her.
For a moment, no one spoke. The air was thick with disbelief, confusion, and the lingering chill of hopelessness. Ilyana sank to the cold stone floor, her weakened limbs trembling as her mana, newly freed, fluttered uncertainly within her. Around her, the other disciples stirred, their gaunt faces a mixture of wonder and wariness.
"Lady Vitaliara…" whispered one of the disciples, her voice hoarse and barely audible. "How… how is she here?"
"And who is he?" murmured another, the words breaking like glass in the fragile silence. "That young man… how could someone like him—?"