As the shadows swallowed W'ithas and Rhedel, a horrifying realization dawned on the gathered warriors.
Angelina turned her gaze to where the Archaic Citadel had stood just moments before. Where the ancient stone towers had pierced the sky, there was now only empty air and swirling mist.
"The Citadel!" she cried out, her voice cutting through the settling dust. "It was a diversion!"
Behind her, Elowen and Alaryc huddled beneath a hastily erected magical barrier. They were barely alive; the chaos extraction had taken their life source out of them too.
Debris from the battle littered the ground: shattered stone, scorched earth, and the lingering whispers of shadow magic.
Jaegar stood at the edge of the clearing, his broad frame tense as he maintained a defensive stance. Scattered around him lay chunks of masonry and splintered wood—testament to the power of the spells that had been flying through the air.
