The first light of dawn cast a pale glow over the village, illuminating the aftermath of the battle. Smoke still curled from a few scattered fires, and the air was thick with the metallic tang of blood. Villagers moved like ghosts among the wreckage, their faces weary but alive. Though they had won, the toll was evident in the haunted eyes of the survivors.
Elena stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching as the wounded were tended to. Makeshift tents had been erected to house the injured, and the healers worked tirelessly, their hands steady despite the enormity of their task. The sounds of groans and murmured reassurances filled the air.
Kael approached her, his armor dented and bloodied but his posture as steadfast as ever. “The final count is in,” he said, his voice low. “We
