Camelia turned toward the shard, lifting her hands, pulling at the energy threading through the Spire, using her own light to wrap around it—separating it from the tangled forces trying to merge.
The crypt screamed.
The portal convulsed, the frozen wasteland shard flickering violently.
Seraphiel stepped forward. "You will regret this," he repeated.
Camelia locked eyes with him. "Then help me finish it."
He hesitated.
Then, slowly, he raised his hands.
And his golden light surged—not to release the cycle, but to help tear it apart.
The crypt trembled, raw energy tearing through the ground as Camelia's light coiled around the shard, resisting its pull toward the expanding portal. She clenched her jaw, sweat dripping down her temple as her body fought to contain the magic surging within her.
