Eastwall did not collapse that day, but it felt like a man who had survived a deep wound. The walls still leaned slightly. The streets remained cracked. The markets lay drowning in dust and broken stalls. People walked slowly, unsure whether they were alive or dreaming. The tremors that shook their homes for hours had left many families outside in the open, staring at the sky, afraid to step back inside.

Evan sat on a stone bench in the shadow of the Central Market Pillar, bandages wrapped around his arms. His chest rose and fell slowly. The ordeal had drained him so deeply that even speaking felt like moving a mountain. Kira sat beside him on the bench, her sword resting across her knees. Brunn stood nearby with his hammer planted into the ground, using it like a makeshift cane. Arwyn was busy directing the guards and helping with the evacuation reports, but every few minutes she glanced at Evan as if to make sure he still breathed.

A small group of city engineers and masons approached carefully. They bowed their heads to Evan, something they would normally do only for high nobles.

One of the masons said, “Master Crest, we need to understand what you did to the pillar. It is stable now but the readings are strange.”

Evan forced himself to speak. “I restored the natural flow. The old foundation was designed to adjust to pressure, not bend to someone’s will. Silas forced a collapse pattern. I removed his anchor.”

The engineers exchanged glances. One of them asked, “Can it be undone? Can the city be stabilized fully?”

Evan shook his head slowly. “Not yet. The cracks you see above are only the surface. The drift below still needs realignment. The ruins must be reinforced. The eastern wall needs a full rebuild. The central pillar must be recalibrated layer by layer.”

The mason swallowed nervously. “But… is it possible?”

Evan nodded. “Yes. But it will take time. Months. Maybe years. And we cannot wait for the next attack.”

Kira crossed her arms. “We cannot rebuild if the enemy is still alive.”

Brunn grunted. “Silas fell from the tower. No one survives a drop like that.”

Evan stared at the skyline silently. The smoke drifting upward from the lower district. The leaning towers. The chipped rooftops. The faint cracks along the central plaza.

“That man is not normal,” Evan murmured. “He manipulates mana through his body. He might survive. And if he does he will return.”

Kira placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then we prepare. We strengthen the city. We set traps. We call reinforcements.”

Evan did not reply immediately. The weight of responsibility pressed down on his chest more heavily than the fight against Silas ever had.

Arwyn returned to the group, her voice low but calm. “Evan, the council wants to speak with you. They want to know what happened. They want to know if the city will stand.”

Evan stood slowly. “Then we speak to them.”

Kira and Brunn followed him as they walked toward the administrative hall on the upper terrace. The hall was cracked at the edges but still standing. Council members, advisors, and nobles gathered in panic. They spoke in frantic whispers until Evan stepped through the doors.

All turned to him.

Arwyn announced, “Evan Crest, the architect who saved Eastwall, is here.”

Evan wished she would not say it like that, but the room needed hope. And if his presence bought time for the city to breathe, he would bear the title.

An elderly councilman approached. “Master Crest, is the city safe?”

Evan answered honestly. “Safe for now. But we must act fast.”

Another councilwoman asked, “What caused this disaster?”

Evan hesitated only for a moment. “A man named Silas Verdan. A disciple of the ancient architect Calren Verdan. He attempted to collapse the city to trigger a larger chain reaction.”

Gasps filled the hall.

Evan continued, “He may still be alive. And if he is, he will try again.”

A younger noble shouted, “Then evacuate the city.”

Evan shook his head. “Evacuation spreads panic and weakens the cities around us. Eastwall supports three neighboring towns. If we fall they fall.”

The nobles looked around at each other.

Arwyn stepped forward. “We must rebuild. And we must defend the city.”

Evan nodded. “I will lead the reconstruction of the mana network. But I need full access to materials, workers, and the engineering guild. And I need your cooperation.”

The council murmured among themselves.

After a moment the elder councilman stepped forward. “You shall have it.”

Evan closed his eyes, exhausted but determined.

The first step toward rebuilding a city was restoring its foundation.

And Eastwall’s foundation now rested on him.