Kael remained motionless for a few moments.
The distant sound of fire and screams seemed too far away to reach him—as if time had stopped.
He simply watched the man before him, the captain—his face lined with exhaustion, his sunken eyes, and the dull glow of someone who had seen too much death.
"And the Academy?" he asked finally.
His voice cut through the silence like a blade.
The knight hesitated. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
"Standing," he replied uncertainly. "But... something's wrong there. We haven't received any signal for days—no lights on the towers, no magical communication, nothing."
He wiped the sweat and soot from his face with the back of his glove. "But the flow of mana from there... it's increased. It's as if the mountain is breathing."
Kael looked away, staring at the colossal silhouette of the castle in the distance—the white and gold towers of the legendary Azalith Academy, now stained by smoke and the orange glow of flames.
