There had been no progress. No new trace of Ivy.
Days had turned to weeks, and still, the void where she once was remained maddeningly silent for Leo. And in that silence, Malrik —relentless, merciless—had seized every opportunity to strike. With every moon, he clawed deeper into their borders, dragging war with him like a plague. Even with one arm, a result of Leo severing the other in their last brutal confrontation, Malrik had not faltered. If anything, he had grown more dangerous, unhinged by pain and vengeance.
And Leo responded with fury, cutting all rogues across his land without blinking an eyelid.
Now, as more storm clouds gathered over the fractured territories, Leo sat in his war chamber, draped in shadows, hunched over aged maps and ancient parchments. His throne, once a sym
