Amidst the suffocating smoke and deafening chaos, Mathias pushed himself up from the cold, vibrating stone floor with absolute difficulty. His legs trembled beneath his weight, barely able to hold his battered frame. For a few agonizing seconds, as he stared at the pool of dark blood and the shattered rubble, a cold, terrifying void seized his chest—he genuinely thought he had lost everything. His wife. His unborn child. His entire world.
Yet, Olivia didn't turn her head toward the dying man in her arms, nor did she falter beneath the weight of Cedric's heartbreaking final words. Her posture remained impossibly rigid, her dark blue eyes gleaming with an eerie, unnatural calmness.
"Mathias, I am fine," Olivia spoke, her voice dropping into a chillingly quiet register that cut through the roaring flames. "Deal with Roland first."
Mathias took a heavy, hesitant step toward her, his hand reaching out, his broadsword trembling in his grip. "But... Olivia, you—"
