The next morning arrived with the sharp scent of damp earth and the distant hum of construction echoing across the encampment. The first beams of sunlight stretched over the horizon, casting long shadows over the growing settlement.
Riven emerged from his tent, his robes loose over his shoulders, his blood-red hair still slightly damp from the bath the night before. His body felt rested, but the tension remained—a constant thrumming just beneath his skin. He was too close now.
One more push.
He needed to reach the Third Circle.
His eyes swept over the encampment, where workers were already hauling supplies to the unfinished apartment. The skeletal framework of the towering structure loomed over the settlement, a sign that the Shadow Kingdom was no longer a graveyard, but something rising anew.
