Zarek's steps echoed through the dark dungeon, each one heavy with determination. Namior's eyes narrowed, recognition flashing across his face as his mind raced.
" That brat… I'm sure I ran my spear through his chest. How is he alive? And that power… it feels familiar."
Before Namior could dwell on the thought, Zarek vanished in a blur of lightning speed, reappearing inches from him. Their weapons clashed, sword against spear, a burst of sparks illuminating the shadows. Namior countered with raw strength, forcing Zarek to leap back. Landing gracefully beside Cain, Zarek smirked.
"Hope I'm not too late," he said.
Cain grinned, his confidence unshaken. "Not at all. I was just getting warmed up."
The sight of Zarek alive and standing strong reignited something in Cain—a surge of hope and a reminder that even the impossible could be defied.
