The dust settled slowly over the ruined battlefield.
Alex stood at the center of the c*****e, his body still crackling with residual energy from the Wellspring. The Ancients were gone. Destroyed. Their power scattered to the winds.
But the cost had been immense.
He looked around at the devastation. His army was battered. Broken. So many of his people were dead. So many were wounded.
But they had won.
Elena appeared beside him, her face pale and streaked with ash. "We did it. We actually did it."
Alex nodded slowly. "We did."
But even as he spoke the words, he felt the darkness stirring inside him. The Wellspring's power was still there. Surging. Demanding.
He pushed it back. Stayed in control.
"Get the wounded to the medical tents," he said. "We need to take care of our people."
