As the last Templar fell, silence enveloped the forest. Harry's breath came in ragged gasps as he surveyed the scene. The glowing fragment pulsed warmly in his grip, and he could still feel the remnants of its energy coursing through him.
"Are you alright?" Marcus asked, concern flickering across his features. "That was… impressive."
"I think so," Harry replied, his voice shaky. "But that was close. Too close."
"Indeed," Marcus said, sheathing his blade. "We must move quickly. More will come. We can't stay here any longer."
Harry nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. He felt the weight of the shard in his hand, and for the first time, he understood its significance. This wasn't just an artifact; it was a key to his past and a beacon for his future.
Together, they retreated deeper into the forest, away from the clearing, and into the shadows. The cold wind rustled through the trees, a reminder of the dangers lurking beyond.