The War for The North [45]
Chapter 157: Borrowed Hell
Seralya was racked by a bloody cough that tore from her lungs.
Kneeling on the ground, atop ashes and vitrified soil, she looked up at this mad boy, trembling.
The unshakable balance, the divine serenity she had felt for thousands of years, had been shattered. Fear had seized her entire body with its cold, clammy fingers, penetrating to her very marrow.
It was all that foolish, arrogant Aethrax's fault. Luin had warned them repeatedly, ordering them to stay in the shadows no matter what.
"That boy is an anomaly," Luin had said. "Outside the flow of time, beyond the rules." But that flame headed dwarf couldn't sit still the moment he felt the dense, chaotic presence of the Prince of Nothingness.
Despite all of Umbrelion's cursed whispers and attempts to stop him, Aethrax had rushed toward his own apocalypse.
Seralya had followed him, at least to keep things under control and get that fool out alive.
