The group's steps crunched against the gravel path as they left the ruins of the chapel behind, the air still heavy with the scent of burnt roots and lingering corruption. The morning sun had risen higher, but its light seemed weaker, barely warming the frigid landscape.
"We're alive," Aris muttered, adjusting her gloves and shaking dust from her hair. "That's something to celebrate, right?"
Draven snorted, shouldering his axe. "You call that a victory? Feels more like surviving."
Kaelith walked slightly ahead, her silver hair swaying as she scanned the horizon. Her calm demeanor betrayed no fatigue, though her posture was tense. "It's not about feeling victorious. Every spire destroyed weakens the Abyss's hold.
Ryu said nothing, Voidfang still humming faintly at his side. The weight of their mission now felt heavier on him. They had to destroy the spire, but each victory only seemed to provoke the Abyss to retaliate with greater force.
