The red glint vanished like a dying ember, but Liam's instincts screamed that it had been no trick of the light. He crouched low, sword held ready, its nullification edge humming faintly with stored power. The forest around the Tree of Life, usually a sanctuary of whispering leaves and gentle mana currents, now felt layered with tension. Every shadow stretched too long. Every snapped twig sounded like a warning.
'Stay sharp. You're not just surviving anymore—you're protecting something real.'
