General Runa's prayers are answered, and within moments, divine energy explodes into the battlefield like a tidal wave of brilliance.
The skies shimmer with golden hues, the earth trembles beneath their feet, and flowers bloom out of season, bursting into life across the blood-soaked terrain.
The once scorched battlefield is now bathed in unnatural warmth and overwhelming light. The sheer pressure of the divine presence thickens the air, making it harder to breathe.
Duchess Amana shields her eyes, her instincts screaming at her to flee.
"Kyle, we need to retreat—now."
She says urgently.
But Kyle doesn't move. His eyes remain locked onto the figure at the center of this divine outpouring.
"You need to go."
He tells her calmly, yet firmly.
Amana flinches slightly. There's a tight knot in her chest that she doesn't understand— discomfort, perhaps even hurt. She tries to dismiss it, but it lingers.
"Are you saying I'm a burden?" \
She asks without meeting his eyes.
