Kaelith
I didn't hesitate.
My sword sliced downward—sharp and silent like death long overdue.
SREETCH!
Blood sprayed like a burst of dark red wine, arcing through the air before staining the barren mining ground.
Mahara's body trembled. Her eyes widened, and in an instant, all laughter and curses vanished from her lips. She collapsed onto her right side, eyes wide... empty.
Finally, silence.
I stood over her corpse. My breath was heavy, my chest rising and falling like a storm that refused to settle.
But I had no time to rest.
The sound of crumbling rocks behind me snapped my attention back.
Someone was crawling from behind the wreckage of the carriage.
Sylas.
His head was covered in dust. One side of his shoulder was bleeding, and his robe was torn in several places. But he was smiling—of course he was still smiling.
"Wow. I almost became flattened chicken," he panted. "Good thing I managed to cast a spell at the last second."
