Time-Locking Orb

The ruins of what was once the Verdant Dawn Academy still smoldered, the earth blackened and scorched from the devastating battle. Smoke curled into the sky like the last dying breath of the battlefield, and the once-proud structures that had stood as a beacon of magical knowledge for generations were now nothing more than rubble and ash. The massive crater left behind by Principal Bartolmew's final attack remained a testament to his overwhelming power—even in death, he had left his mark.

And yet, despite that, Ingranad still stood.

Albeit barely.

The Third Prince of the Obsidian Revenants coughed up dark, viscous blood as he leaned on his greatsword, the once-imposing blade now chipped and coated in the residue of burned flesh. His armor, once a menacing obsidian black, had cracks and scorch marks all over it, revealing raw, exposed muscle beneath. His body was slowly regenerating, but it was taking far too long.