Dylan shook his head sharply. Fear mingled with a new, raw adrenaline that his core seemed to amplify. Every heartbeat pounded like a hammer blow in his chest, yet also like an overheated engine, ready to explode.
In that instant, without hesitation. Julius's words had etched themselves into his mind with the coldness of a blade.
They raced down a steep slope, sliding over dead leaves, thorns tearing at their clothes. The ravine unfolded before them—a dark, deep gash in the landscape, split by a furious torrent whose roar rose like a warning. It was indeed a bottleneck. A perfect trap.
"Now!" Julius bellowed, his voice ragged from exertion and the wind howling through the pass.
And yet, he still hadn't mentioned jumping.
Julius spun abruptly, driving his sword into the damp earth. With a swift motion, he tore a small metal sphere from his belt—a magnetic pulse grenade, recognizable by its blue-ridged casing.
