The retreat from the dungeon remained a hazy blur, and my consciousness flickered in and out. My passive mana recovery gradually restored my body and mind, and by the time we emerged from the Gate, I could at least keep my eyes open. The fetid swamp lay before us, seemingly untouched by our absence, and a handful of guards eagerly welcomed our return.
Countless flashes of light illuminated the marshlands as soldiers reappeared through the gate. Some bore faint burns or were laced with claw marks, while others simply carried the exhausting weight of battle. The commanders wasted no time in dismissing their troops, granting them a few precious hours of rest before discussions about leaving the swamp began.
"I can stand now," I whispered, meeting Fyren's gaze.
"Rest a little longer. That last spell must have hit your soul, so take it easy," he urged with a reassuring smile.
"Then I'll trouble you a little longer," I murmured, resting my head against his arm.
