The journey back to the surface was sombre, the weight of their victory overshadowed by the cryptic warning. The air in the cavern had shifted, no longer oppressive but still tinged with unease, as though the shadows were not entirely gone.

Elara clutched Kael’s arm for balance as they climbed the rope ladder out of the well. The faint glow of dawn greeted them at the surface, the icy wind biting against her skin. The village, though eerily quiet, no longer radiated the sinister presence it once had.

“Whatever we banished,” Kael said as he surveyed the area, “it was only a fragment of something greater.”

Elara nodded, her fingers brushing against the now-dormant crystal at her side. “The whispers… they warned of more. That this is only the beginning.”

Kael’s jaw tightened, his silver eyes scanning the horizon. “Then we prepare. If there’s a larger force behind this corruption, it won’t stop until it consumes everything.”

As the group regrouped, Lyria approached, her face pale but resolute. “My lady, you need rest. You’ve done more than anyone could have expected.”

Elara managed a tired smile, but her gaze lingered on the horizon. “Rest can wait. We need to understand what we’ve unleashed.”

Kael gestured for the remaining guards to secure the area. “Search the village for any signs or relics. We need answers.”

As they combed through the ruins, Elara and Lyria made their way to the elder’s house. The interior was cluttered with books, scrolls, and artefacts—evidence of a mind dedicated to the arcane. Dust motes floated in the faint light streaming through the broken windows.

Elara picked up a weathered tome from a splintered desk, its cover embossed with runes similar to those on the altar. “These symbols… they’re connected to the corruption,” she murmured.

Lyria hesitated. “Do you think the elder was trying to summon the darkness? Or fight it?”

“I don’t know,” Elara admitted, flipping through the brittle pages. The text, written in an ancient tongue, was difficult to decipher, but fragments stood out. “Here—this mentions guardians and bindings. It’s like the altar was one of many… a part of a network meant to contain something vast.”

Lyria frowned. “But if the altar was meant to hold the darkness, why did it fail?”

Elara’s magic stirred uneasily within her, the crystal at her side emitting a faint warmth. “Maybe the bindings are weakening. Or maybe someone—something—wanted them broken.”

Kael entered the room, his presence commanding even in the quiet space. “The village records are incomplete, but some survivors spoke of strangers passing through weeks ago. They carried strange artefacts and spoke of awakening ancient powers.”

Elara’s eyes widened. “Someone deliberately unleashed this.”

Kael nodded grimly. “If they succeeded here, they’ll try again elsewhere.”