The echoes of that hellish ruin where the Black Knight fell were still fresh in their minds, even weeks later.
Fredrinn, Rose, and Cassian had returned to Veythral.
They bore the heavy costs of their victory.
The city had breathed a sigh of relief at its master's return.
But the atmosphere between these three was far more tense and fragile than before.
Since that day, Fredrinn had completely devoted himself to work.
By day, he wrestled with the administrative tasks that had piled up in his absence.
By night, he tried to control the new, dark, and mighty power that had settled in his body.
Eric had done an admirable job managing Veythral, maintaining order and peace.
But for Fredrinn, these mundane responsibilities were nothing next to the colossal worries occupying his mind.
The stone in his chest was no longer just a source of power.
It was a symbol of a bottomless darkness that constantly whispered.
It felt like a borrowed power.
