The dust from the fallen guardian hadn’t even settled when a mocking voice echoed across the ruins.“Well, that was impressive,” it drawled. “And here I thought the guardians would crush you into paste.”Steel hissed as Lyra drew her blade instantly, pivoting toward the broken colonnade. Figures emerged from the shadows,dozens of them, clad in dark robes stitched with crimson runes. Their faces were hidden, but their eyes glowed faintly with a sickly light.“The cult,” Arden whispered, staff rising. His voice trembled with both dread and fury.The leader stepped forward, tall and lean, twin curved daggers glinting in his hands. His mask was bone-white, a serpent carved into the cheek.Mordaine’s fire surged reflexively at the sight. “You again,” he growled.The man tilted his head. “Ah… the Emberborn speaks. To stand where even guardians bow to you truly fitting. The ember sings louder now, doesn’t it?”Selene’s voice was sharp. “You won’t have him.”The cult leader laughed, twirling