The air was thick with the remnants of dark magic, the ground scorched and lifeless beneath their feet. A strange silence had settled over the battlefield, as if even nature itself was recoiling from what had just taken place.
Liora exhaled, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face as she surveyed the destruction. "Great. First, we nearly get swallowed by ancient dark magic, and now we're stuck cleaning up the mess."
Vaelen, still stretching his sore limbs, shot her a smirk. "Complaining already? Thought werewolves had better stamina than that."
She shot him a glare. "Oh, I have plenty. Unlike you, I don't need to shift into a big fluffy cat to keep up."
Raviel, who had been inspecting the corrupted soil, let out a dry chuckle. "Save your bickering for later. If we don't cleanse this area properly, the corruption will fester. Unless you want to fight another nightmare tomorrow?"
Liora rolled her eyes but got to work. Using their respective abilities, they slowly burned away the last traces of the taint. Vaelen tore apart the remains of blackened trees with his sheer strength, Liora purified the soil with her connection to nature, and Raviel summoned controlled gusts to clear the lingering dark mist from the air.
It was exhausting, but after a while, the land no longer felt cursed. It would take time to heal, but at least it wasn't beyond saving.
As they stepped back from their work, Tyron arrived, carrying a small bag of supplies. "Figured you'd be hungry after almost getting possessed."
They sat down near the edge of the clearing, pulling out whatever food remained in their packs. The meal was simple—dried meat, fruit, and some slightly stale bread—but after everything, it tasted better than any feast.
Vaelen took a bite and scowled. "This bread is harder than my sword."
Liora snorted. "Careful, wouldn't want the mighty tiger to break a tooth."
Raviel smirked, tearing a piece of his own. "He'd just growl through the pain. Too stubborn to admit weakness."
Vaelen shot them both a glare but didn't bother responding. He just kept chewing, jaw tense.
For a brief moment, the tension that had been following them like a shadow seemed to fade. It was just them, eating and teasing like old friends, even if they weren't quite there yet.
But the peace didn't last.
As they packed up to leave, heading back toward the city, the unease crept in again. The fight had ended, but the weight of what had happened still lingered in the air.
Vaelen was the first to voice it. "This fight… it was just the beginning, wasn't it?"
Raviel's sharp golden eyes flickered toward him. "You feel it too?"
Liora let out a slow breath. "We won today. But the war hasn't even started yet."
No one spoke after that.
As they walked, the wind picked up, carrying whispers of something unseen. Something waiting.
And for the first time, the thought crossed their minds—what if they weren't strong enough to face what was coming?
After what felt like hours, the air finally felt lighter, as if the land itself was sighing in relief. Exhausted but satisfied, the three of them collapsed onto the grass.
Liora groaned, stretching her arms. "Next time, let's just run in the other direction when we see something drenched in ancient evil."
Vaelen chuckled. "You? Running? I thought werewolves were supposed to be fearless."
She scoffed. "I am fearless. But that doesn't mean I enjoy getting tossed around like a ragdoll."
Raviel smirked. "Could've fooled me. The way you hit that thing's head, I almost felt sorry for it."
Liora grinned. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, bird boy."
Raviel rolled his eyes but didn't argue.
As the sun began to set, the three of them finally settled down to eat, sharing whatever rations they had left. There was an unspoken understanding between them now—something had changed. They weren't just three strangers forced into an alliance anymore.
By the time they finished, the city lights flickered in the distance, guiding them back home. The battle was over, but the war was only beginning.