The cavern's exit spat Lina Mornveil and Ronan Direfang onto a windswept terrace high above the Shattered Vale. Dawn's first light painted ice-clad peaks in rose and gold, but below, the Red Moon's lingering glow tainted the broken battlements with bloodied hue. In the valley beyond, Aldric's mutated bone-wolf abomination—spawned by his failed aether ritual—raged among the ruins, its fractured form howling corrosive malice into the air.
Ronan tightened his grip on the Obsidian Fang, the blade glinting with suppressed power. “We must end this now," he urged, voice fierce against the beast's roar.
Lina grasped his hand, heart pounding. She clutched the final moon-shard catalyst—a single, perfect crystal—against her palm. Around it swirled the echoes of every healing note, every vow spoken
