Chapter 32

The fire in the war tent burned low, casting flickering shadows along the canvas walls. Elara sat at the head of the table, her fingers drumming against the wooden surface as Astra’s warning echoed in her mind.

Draven is stronger than before. And I don’t think you can stop him this time.

The words had unsettled her, though she refused to let it show.

Leon stood at her side, silent and watchful, his golden eyes dark with thought. Across from them, Soren sharpened his blade with slow, deliberate movements, his usual smirk absent.

“What do we do?” one of the generals finally asked, breaking the tense silence.

Elara inhaled deeply before she spoke. “We prepare for the worst.”

Her words were met with grim nods. They all knew what was coming.

Draven hadn’t just survived. He had evolved.

And now, he was coming for her.

\---

**A Message in Blood**

The attack came at dawn.

A single scout staggered into camp, his body barely holding together. His armor was scorched, his face smeared with blood—not his own.

Elara rushed to him, catching him before he collapsed. “What happened?”

The scout wheezed, his eyes wild with fear. “They’re… coming. The Shadow Court—”

His body convulsed.

Leon caught him as he fell, checking for a pulse.

Nothing.

A moment later, something moved in the distance.

Elara’s magic flared in warning.

She turned sharply toward the trees—just in time to see the sigil.

Burned into the earth.

A symbol of death.

A message.

We are coming.

\---

**The Battle Begins**

The first wave struck at dusk.

The sky bled into hues of deep crimson as the enemy emerged from the shadows—figures cloaked in unnatural darkness, their eyes glowing like embers.

Draven had sent his creatures first.

The battle was brutal.

Elara fought at the front lines, her blade cutting through the darkness as her magic pulsed around her. Leon fought beside her, a force of pure, unyielding power, his golden eyes burning with determination.

And yet, for every enemy they felled, more rose to take their place.

The Shadow Court was relentless.

And in the chaos, a single voice echoed through the battlefield.

“Elara.”

She froze.

The air around her shivered, bending under the weight of a familiar presence.

Then, from the darkness, he emerged.

Draven.

Alive.

Stronger than ever.

And smiling.