The screams fell silent. The mist evaporated.
Kyle stood alone, breath steady, the last echoes of the illusion dispersing into the lifeless air.
The battlefield reasserted itself around him—cracked earth, mangled corpses, and mana-saturated winds. The cursed voices faded like a bad dream, leaving only the cold steel of reality.
He didn't wait. Somewhere ahead, Nigel still hadn't escaped.
Following his mana trail, Kyle leapt across shattered ground and impaled a lunging monster mid-air.
Without pausing, he landed behind another and skewered it through the back. A sharp turn, a burst of mana, and the third was blown apart before it could even open its maw.
Then he saw him.
Nigel was trapped—pinned against a rock by three hulking monsters, his blade heavy in his hand, eyes glazed over.
One of the monsters reared back, maw open, drool thick with corrupted mana as it aimed for Nigel's head.
Kyle didn't speak. He moved.
