The battlefield was quiet now, but the silence wasn't peaceful—it was heavy, charged with something that hadn't fully settled. The abyss had receded, but its presence still lingered, woven into the fabric of reality like a scar that refused to fade. Cruzer could feel it, whispering at the edges of his mind, watching.
He stared for a moment longer, then exhaled sharply and turned away.
Elara walked beside him, her presence grounding. She hadn't asked any more questions—hadn't needed to. She knew him too well. And for once, he was glad for the silence.
They made their way through the battlefield's wreckage, the remnants of their fight scattered around them—craters in the ground, shattered stone, scorch marks from elemental surges that had torn through the earth.
The tournament officials would probably have something to say about the sheer destruction, but that wasn't his problem. Not yet.
For now, he was focused on something else.
Gin.
