LEGACY UNCHAINED

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX: THE THRESHOLD OF NO RETURN

THE THRESHOLD OF NO RETURN

Night had settled heavily over Ashenford, the kind of night so thick and windless it seemed the darkness itself was a sentient creature, waiting, listening, calculating. The moon was a pale shard behind bruised clouds, its light barely enough to silver the broken streets and jagged rooftops. Yet even in that suffocating quiet, the city thrummed with a nervous heartbeat. Refugees huddled in corners; wounded guards limped from post to post; whispers traveled like smoke: Elliott has returned. The reckoning is near.

Inside the makeshift war hall the half-collapsed ruins of an old senate chamber Elliott stood at the far end of the long stone table, leaning over it with both palms pressed firmly against its surface. He said nothing at first. His chest rose and fell with a slow, dangerous rhythm, and even Mira, who had seen him at his lowest and highest, felt a tremor of unease.

Because this Elliott wasn’t the wounded fighter or the reluctantly rising leader.

This