The world around Noel slowed.
The roar of the wyvern, the crack of frost, the howling wind—all faded to a distant hum. His body refused to move, every muscle numb from the impact. Blood pulsed behind his eyes.
And then—something shifted.
A familiar presence.
From the edge of his blurred vision, a figure stepped forward—silent, dark as shadow. The same presence that had guided his sword countless times before.
The shadow.
It made no sound, no breath, no words—only silence.
Step by step, it approached Revenant Fang, which lay trembling faintly beside him.
Noel's heart pounded. He watched—helpless, frozen—as the figure reached the blade.
But then—something unexpected.
The shadow paused.
Slowly, it turned its head toward him.
And raised one hand.
A silent wave. A farewell.
Noel's breath caught in his throat.
Before he could speak, the figure vanished—merging into the steel of Revenant Fang.
