THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE
They moved together, the strength of their bond evident in every strike, every movement.
But even with the walls broken, the battle was far from over. The Order, ever resilient, had not been idle. As Veyra and her pack charged deeper into the Citadel, they were met with fierce resistance. Zealots, draped in the dark robes of the Order, stood in the shadows, their eyes burning with fanaticism. They were no longer just soldiers—they were acolytes of darkness, corrupted by their devotion to Nyros and the twisted rituals that had sustained the Order for so long.
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