Their journey had been nothing short of eventful—an entire day spent fighting monsters and sneaking past the ones they couldn't afford to engage.
The sun was close to setting, casting long shadows across the ruins. Damon exhaled, the red sheen of blood on his sword catching the crimson hue of the dying light.
He stood atop the corpse of a monster—an ugly creature with eyes in its mouth. Hideous, malformed. A shame Matia had landed the killing blow. The beast had been guarding a waypoint, but for some reason, it had chosen to attack them instead.
Which worked out. They were going to use the waypoint anyway.
Damon turned and walked toward the others. He could feel Evangeline and Sylvia glancing at him.
He needed healing—his wounds were deep and pulsing—but he didn't ask. Both girls could heal, though Sylvia had a stronger affinity for it. Evangeline's magic was built more for purification. She hadn't used that skill today, not yet.
