When the last of the monstrous sea serpents fell, their grotesque bodies crashing into the water with a resounding splash, Aeliana leaned against the railing, her eyes scanning the battlefield. The platforms, once teeming with adventurers and mercenaries, shimmered faintly before retracting back into the water under the mages' control. The battle was over—for now.
The ships bobbed gently on the waves, the crews and fighters catching their breath after the chaos. Some slumped against the railings, their weapons still in hand, while others attended to the wounded or regrouped in hushed conversations.
Aeliana's gaze lingered on the ship nearest to the Fourth Station. Her thoughts, however, were fixed on two individuals. The blonde mage whose frost magic had bound one of the sea serpents with uncanny precision, and the swordsman whose blade danced through the fray with that peculiar, mesmerizing light.
