For endless minutes, the forest had been roaring with the sound of destruction — crashing trees, shrieking beasts, and the hiss of magic tearing through the air like a storm.
Then, suddenly, it all stopped. The silence that followed was worse than the chaos. Heavy. Dead. Almost sacred.
Captain Apnoch could barely breathe under the weight of it. His men, sprawled behind him and soaked in sweat and dirt, stared wide-eyed at the distant treeline.
The air still quivered from the aftershock. Every heartbeat seemed to echo in the stillness.
"Stay low," Apnoch ordered hoarsely. His throat was dry, voice raw. "We don't know what came out of there."
They hadn't been able to move for the last twenty minutes — pinned down by bursts of pressure so intense they felt their bones crackle. First had come the mana surge — a vertical storm of energy so massive it painted the sky black.
