Darian led the way, Jaenor's unconscious weight balanced on his shoulders. His breathing was already labored, but he pushed forward without complaint. Taeryn took the rear, his eyes constantly scanning for threats.
Morgana and Rena stayed between them, supporting each other as they navigated the devastated landscape.
Behind them, the battle intensified.
Wendelina had summoned something massive—a construct of pure origin energy shaped like a massive serpent. It coiled through the air, its body as thick as a tree trunk, and when it struck at Draelusa, the impact created a shockwave that flattened everything in a thirty-foot radius.
Draelusa responded by tearing open rifts in reality itself. Darkness poured through the wounds in space, and things emerged—creatures that shouldn't exist, made of nightmare and void. They shrieked as they attacked the witches, and their screams were sounds that no living throat should make.
"Don't look back," Morgana urged.
"Just keep moving."
