"I'm heading to the battlefield tomorrow," Onyx said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet of the night. "I'm not coming back until I've become a lord."
It was his vow, his unbreakable will. It didn't matter where the battle was or who the enemy was. His mind was set.
After a long silence, Rockwell followed his mentor's gaze toward the distant horizon. "We'll be waiting for you, Prophet," he replied softly.
That night, in the countless corners of the city, some reveled, some polished their armor, some sharpened their blades, and others shared a final meal with their families.
Silverwood Realm, Augurath Sanctuary.
Under the Deputy Commander's tireless efforts, the Black Tower's self-repair functions had finally reactivated. The gaping, light-spewing hole in the tower's roof, a scar left by Orion, was now seamlessly sealed, leaving no trace of the damage.
