Ethan's talk with Thalorien didn't last long.
They traded the information they needed.
Confirmed where each other stood.
Then they split up.
No ceremony.
No oaths.
But they both understood—
a new alliance had already formed.
Ethan returned to camp.
His expression settled back into calm, like nothing had happened.
But only he knew the truth.
Time was running out.
He lifted a hand.
Hundreds of Flying Goblins launched into the air at once.
Their wings beat the air, making a dense, buzzing vibration.
They scattered fast, fanning out in every direction across the Nether Sea.
Watching.
Scouting.
Waiting for something to break.
For the next half month, the world was unnervingly quiet.
No new spatial rifts.
No unknown lifeforms.
Not a single sign of an attack from Nexaris.
But Ethan didn't relax.
If anything, he expanded even harder.
Creature Dwellings ran day and night.
New goblins were born without pause.
War Machines rolled off the line in batches.
