After the intense battle, a brutal, heavy, and impalpable silence drowned their ears.
The Guardian's breathing was slow, steady, barely perceptible, not even moving a millimeter. Despite his apparent lack of motion, the knight's stillness omitted a sense of intensity.
At times, Asahi could hardly count how long he had stood there.
He refused to move. Not because he was scared but because he had Kendra cradled in his arms, bruised and seemingly beyond repair. Though the peaceful quietness abruptly entered this moment, terror still thundered down in Asahi. He knew that even though blessed by the temporary power of that shard of glass, he would still fall into weakness.
As his eyes tremblingly and fearfully anchored at the living statue, he felt something move between his arms. Kendra.
