The final remnants of the invasion refused to surrender quietly.
Even after the overwhelming defeat of their commanders, scattered Abyssal Worshippers continued to emerge from ruined streets and shattered coral districts, attempting desperate attacks against evacuation routes before being intercepted almost immediately by Atlantean soldiers.
Outside the palace, the ocean still rumbled. Every few minutes, another tremendous wave of mana rolled across Atlantis.
Sometimes it came with the roar of displaced water. Sometimes with a distant explosion.
Sometimes with nothing more than a subtle pressure that made every mana-sensitive individual instinctively look toward the horizon.
Arthur was still out there.
Still fighting and reclaiming his kingdom one district at a time.
Inside the palace, however, the atmosphere had changed completely.
The frantic urgency that had defined the previous hours had gradually transformed into organized recovery.
