Trafalgar did not hesitate after Thaleon's command.
The pressure along the corridor had thinned. Fewer rifts were opening now, and the constant distortion that had filled the air earlier had shifted elsewhere. The battlefield was still dangerous, but it was no longer collapsing around them.
Now that the situation outside had calmed slightly, he made his decision.
He would go after the heirs.
As he prepared to move, another realization settled in.
A long time had passed.
They had been fighting long enough that the sky was already losing light. The gray above had deepened, and what little daylight remained was thinning behind smoke and rain.
He could still feel the effect of the potion Valttair had given him. The steadiness in his body had not faded. The clarity in his perception remained sharp.
That meant the twenty-four hours had not passed yet.
He still had time.
And he intended to use it.
