The valley held its breath.
For a single suspended heartbeat the roar of battle dimmed to a thin hum — wind in cracked stone, distant howls, the whisper of ash.
Above them, the secret realm's ceiling trembled as if listening.
Shaurya's smile still hung at one corner of his mouth. Lorgann's molten eyes flared.
Shadow Blade An Ning stood infront of them. His long hair whipped in the heated wind, eyes locked onto Shaurya with razor-sharp focus.
The entire valley fell silent.
Lorgann's molten jaws opened, glowing brighter.
Molten cracks ran across the dragon's obsidian scales, glowing like rivers of magma. Heat rolled out in heavy waves, bending the air. The stone beneath it's claws melted in shallow puddles.
Shaurya stood before him, golden aura flickering.
His right arm bled. His ribs screamed. His vision pulsed at the edges.
But he stood.
Across from them—
Shadow Blade An Ning looked almost bored.
Arms at his sides. Shoulders relaxed.
