As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky bled into darkness with surprising speed. The echoes of clashing steel and roaring cheers from Amon and Bawi's fierce duel gradually faded, leaving the modest hut perched on the cliff's edge in a hushed stillness.
From its vantage point above the restless sea, the structure seemed to hold its breath beneath the open heavens. A moonless night stretched across the sky, an ink-black canvas glittering with constellations that shimmered like fragments of some forgotten myth. A biting wind drifted in from the ocean, threading through the trees and brushing like cold fingertips against the skin of any who dared to linger outside after midnight.
Inside the hut, tension lingered just beneath the surface. For days now, Amon had been grappling with the daunting task of persuading the legendary Sword Saint to abandon his allegiance to the looming threat of the Demon Cult.
