Gregor didn't realize when the battlefield around Vanthrice fell silent. As the last scream faded into the ash-laden air, Gregor's world had already spiraled into chaos, a whirlwind of steel, breath, and instinct. Each second felt stretched tight under the brutal pressure of survival.
While she had carved her path with surgical precision, Gregor found himself in a raw and relentless struggle. His fight was a grinding clash of strength against overwhelming numbers, discipline against sheer endurance, with every step forward paid for in blood.
He stood surrounded not in a neat circle like Valeria had been earlier, but in a tightening knot of black-clad figures pressing in from all sides. Their movements were precise and coordinated, executed without hesitation.
