The snow had started to fall again. Soft white flakes fluttered from the dark sky, quietly settling over the scorched ground. The air still crackled faintly from the lingering energy of the fight. The wind carried the bitter scent of ash and blood.
Kael stood over Mira's headless body, his sword still gleaming red from the clean, decisive kill. Her blood pooled beneath her, soaking into the snow, dyeing it a deep, sinister crimson. The silence after the execution was suffocating, broken only by the sound of Kael's heavy breathing.
His face was blank at first, his chest rising and falling steadily. Then slowly, that expressionless mask cracked, twisting into a crooked, eerie grin.
"Tch... finally quiet," he muttered, spitting to the side. He turned his gaze toward the destruction around them—burned trees, ruptured ground, and scorched craters from Mira's relentless magic. The land had been torn apart by their battle.
