The air in Ardent Hold was thick with tension, the very walls vibrating with the aftershocks of the ritual that had bound the Heart of Oaths to the Bloodstone. Morgana staggered to her feet, her body still reeling from the surge of power. The dim light from the torches flickered weakly, casting long shadows on the ancient stone around her, but even here in the depths of the Catacombs, she could feel it—the presence of Nyx closing in.
Kirin was at her side in an instant, his face grim but filled with determination. "We did it," he said, though his voice carried little triumph. "But now comes the hard part."
Morgana nodded, her throat dry. "We've destabilized him. Nyx is no longer connected to the shadows in the same way. But that means he'll come for us directly—he won't hold back."
Lyana, her face pale from the strain of the ritual, approached cautiously. "We need to get back to the surface. We've bought some time, but not much. The defenders will need us."
