The ruins of Vaeloria stood silent once more.
But it was not the silence of emptiness.
It was the silence of waiting.
The First Lord had retreated.
The kneeling creatures had not moved.
And the storm hanging above them—**unnatural, endless—was only just beginning.
Damien exhaled, his grip tightening around the blackened blade. The weapon pulsed faintly, as if acknowledging what had just happened.
As if understanding that this was only the start.
Dante let out a sharp breath. "Tell me that was a victory."
Selene smirked slightly. "We're still alive. That's something."
Carys exhaled sharply, surveying the ruined city. "Not for long if we stay here."
Erynn's silver eyes flickered between Damien and the kneeling creatures. "Why haven't they moved?"
Damien didn't answer immediately.
Because he already knew.
They had not been defeated.
They were simply waiting for their master to return.