Kael's statement carried no haste, nor exaggerated triumph—just a calm, almost administrative observation, like someone who concludes one stage and immediately moves on to the next without dramatization. The hall, though still marked by deep cracks, displaced surfaces, and a residual feeling of pressure, had regained a minimum of stability, enough to support what was to come. And that, for him, was enough.
Before turning his attention to the two sealed ones, Kael glanced at Exelia.
She still maintained her firm posture, blade in hand, but now that the direct confrontation had ceased, small signs were becoming more evident—her breathing slightly heavier than normal, the arm that had absorbed part of Vlad's impact still carrying residual tension, invisible micro-fissures in the way her energy circulated after so many high-precision movements under constant pressure.
Nothing incapacitating.
But also… not negligible.
