Chapter 575 - The Weight of the Ascent

The silence in the cavern was a strange thing—heavy, yet oddly comforting after the chaos above. The echoes of battle were long gone, replaced by the steady rhythm of breath and the faint sound of shifting gravel under boots. Luke sat near the faint shimmer of Saint Cynthia's light, his back pressed to the cool stone, shoulder freshly set but still throbbing, his body feeling both foreign and fragile. Across from him, the Saint herself sat cross-legged, her sceptre resting on her knees, head bowed as she murmured quiet prayers to replenish the last of her strength. The soft blue glow of divine energy washed over the walls, giving the underground stronghold a strange sanctity—as though this place, once a lair of blasphemy, was finally being purified by her presence.