The smoke from the shattered Rift lingered in the air like a haunting reminder of the battle that had nearly destroyed everything. The once-vibrant landscape, now scarred and brittle, lay in eerie silence, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The Rift had been sealed, the creature defeated—but the price of victory had yet to fully reveal itself.
Kael stood at the edge of the ruined battlefield, his hand still gripping the hilt of his sword. The weapon, now dull and scarred, no longer shimmered with the power it once had. His body was sore from the battle, but it was the deep ache in his heart that lingered longer.
They had won, yes—but what had they truly won? The world was left in tatters, its balance shattered. The land needed healing, the magic needed restoring, and there were still shadows lingering in the corners of their minds. Shadows of what the Riftmaster had unleashed—and of what it might have left behind.