Towards the Spire.

Anna sat on a crumbled slab of stone, gingerly pressing a hand to her bruised side. She still felt the lingering ache from the Pyrofiend Alpha's attack, but at least the oppressive heat of its domain had faded. A faint breeze wafted through the ruined pillars around them, stirring up swirls of ash and dust.

Damien stood a few paces away, surveying the landscape. His coat bore scorch marks at the edges, and his breathing was still uneven, but he seemed otherwise composed. The remnants of scarlet-gold flame that had danced around him earlier were gone now—tucked away behind that guarded expression of his.

They had been sitting in tense silence for a few minutes, letting the adrenaline subside. Finally, Damien pointed toward the horizon, where a jagged silhouette rose above the surrounding debris. It looked like a half-collapsed spire—a lone structure jutting out of the scorched earth, faintly illuminated by the red sky.