The morning after they left the temple was silent, too silent. Even the forest felt like it was holding its breath. The mist had thickened, curling around the trees like ghosts watching from the shadows. Every step the trio took seemed to echo in the stillness, every rustle of leaves a whisper of warning.

Darius walked ahead, his senses sharpened. He could smell something faint but wrong. It wasn’t the earthy scent of moss or the damp of the woods. It was iron, cold and sharp. Blood. He ...