The dust of battle still hung in the air, and the eclipse cloaked the sky in an oppressive shroud of darkness, but for a brief moment, the weapons were lowered. The battlefield, once the stage of chaos and destruction, now sat in heavy silence, as if the earth itself was trying to absorb the tense pause. The troops of Elandor and the rebel demons had pulled back, reorganizing, but their eyes remained fixed on the horizon, fully aware that this truce was only temporary.
Elysiel looked around, her heart still pounding with the adrenaline of the battle. The truce offered some relief, but she knew it was just a pause before the storm. Beside her, Seraphis was visibly weakened but stood tall, his expression grim. He could feel the shadows within him calming, but he knew that the conflict between light and darkness was far from resolved — not within him, nor in the world around him.
