The silence was not the end of the battle; it was a pause too heavy to be called peace. It descended upon the shore like an unspoken burden, pressing down on the still-wirm black sand, causing the tiny obsidian grains to creak softly under the lingering pressure. The sea in the distance withdrew, its waves subsiding into whispers, as if afraid to disturb what had just transpired.
In the midst of the ruins, Sylvia stood alone for a moment.
The Chains of Abyss still coiled loosely in her hands, their ends dangling like black veins that had lost their pulse. The death fire within the chains dimmed, not extinguished, merely waiting. In her chest, the War Sun Flame pulsed irregularly, like a heart of war that had just been forced to stop mid-stride. The two essences clashed gently, creating vibrations that traveled to the tips of her fingers.
