Chapter 95: Victory In The Mist Of Challenges
Lyra limped as they keep going with her silver braid matted with blood and mud, her shadow-etched gauntlet flickered with runes that struggled to maintain their glow.
Salaris, her shadow-cloaked raptor, flickered at her side with her iridescent feathers dulled by grime and her talons clicked faintly on the stone.
Lyra’s green eyes were sharp but shadowed by pain, stared ahead, her chest and side wounds bandaged but seeping, each step a grimace of effort.
Her breathing was shallow, her face were ashen, the rogue tamer’s attack having torn open old wounds and added new ones. "We are almost there," she said, with her voice hoarse, barely audible over the drizzle’s patter. "The Sanctum is close."
Kelvin nodded, his jaw clenching. "We made it through the Peaks and we will make it home."
Darius trudged on his right, his broad frame slumped, his hazel eyes were dulled by exhaustion and pain.
Rhoam, his iron-plated panther, lumbered behind, his massive paws dragging through the mud with his iron plates clinking dully, dented and scratched from the wyrm’s claws.
Darius clutched a soulstone with its green glow faint in his trembling hand, his usual grin replaced by a tight-lipped grimace.
The gashes on his arm, leg, and chest bled through his bandages, slowing his pace to a painful shuffle. "Home sounds good," he muttered, his voice rough. "But I am not sure I have got enough left to get there."
Kelvin managed a faint smile, Darius’s grim humor was a spark against the oppressive gloom. "We will carry you if we have to," he said, though the weight of their injuries and the rogue tamer’s words, "The Veil claims this valley but we are the Crest."
The monitoring device in Kelvin’s pack flickered back to life, its runes pulsing weakly: "Signal restored. Sanctum 10 miles south. Report rogue tamer sighting immediately."