Far below the earth, Marlic crouched in silence. The duel with the Ironbound had scarred him, daylight had frayed his storm—but grief does not die.
He pressed his spear into the cavern floor, smoke bleeding upward. Faces of the fallen flickered in the shadows, their cries feeding his storm. His ember eyes glowed faintly, cruel and patient.
"They think dawn protects them. They think allies make them strong. Let them believe. Hope is the sweetest fuel for despair."
His champions bowed, their forms reshaping, stronger than before. The cavern pulsed with shadow, a heartbeat of betrayal.
Marlic rose, his laughter low. "I will not strike yet. Let them train. Let them rest. When night falls again, I will bring grief reborn. Stronger. Endless. And their fragile dawn will shatter."
The cavern trembled, as if the stone itself feared him. Above, the valley basked in sunlight, unaware of the storm rebuilding in silence.