The ruins of Stonewell smoldered behind them, but for the first time in days, Nathan felt the weight on his shoulders begin to lift.
The party had regrouped in what remained of the village square. The TCA was still stabilizing the Tower here, their containment teams moving through the wreckage with methodical efficiency. The evacuation was complete—four hundred villagers saved, every last one. The Court's third assault on the eastern sector had failed.
But the change in Nathan was what drew every eye.
He stood at the center of the square, Moonlight in his grip, and the residue mana radiating from his body was palpable. It rippled through the air around him like heat shimmers over summer stone. It hummed in the silver string of his bow. It pulsed through the mental link, a steady, powerful current that his summons could feel in their very cores.
