The early morning air was cold, crisp, and biting against Damien's skin as he stepped out of the Iron Hall. The towering structure loomed behind him like a relic of forgotten battles, its shadows lingering long after Vale's escape. Beside him, Amara wiped the blood from one of her daggers onto a strip of cloth, her sharp blue eyes glinting with faint amusement.
"So, what's the plan now, fearless leader?" she asked, her tone casual but laced with curiosity.
Damien didn't respond immediately. His steel-gray eyes scanned the darkened streets of Winter's Crown, every shadow and corner now alive with the possibility of enemies lurking just out of reach. Vale's words still echoed in his mind, heavy with unspoken threats and chilling truths.
"We find Vale," Damien said finally, his voice low and resolute. "Before he makes his next move."
