The battlefield was quiet.
Too quiet.
Lyla stood at the center of it, her claws curled into fists, the air around her still rippling with power. The creatures, the ones that had tried to consume her were gone.
Not dead.
Not destroyed.
Just… gone.
But the silence they left behind was worse.
Because it was not peace.
It was a warning.
A message from something older than war.
Older than the Marked Ones.
Older than even the Elders.
And that message was clear:
You were never meant to walk this path.
But Lyla had never cared about what she was meant for.
Only what she could take.
She exhaled slowly, scanning the ruins, her silver eyes sharp.
"Status?"
The Marked Ones stirred behind her, shaking off the remnants of battle.
Rhyne stepped forward first.
"Minimal losses," he repo
