The Citadel buzzed with activity as the team made their final preparations. The discovery of the obelisk fragments had galvanized the Council into action. Scouts and messengers came and went, carrying urgent updates from the front lines. The enemy was growing bolder, their incursions more frequent and devastating.

Damien stood in the armory, inspecting Ebonfang as its runes pulsed faintly. Beside him, Lyra sharpened her blades while Roland adjusted the straps on his shield.

Cassian entered, a map in hand. “We’ve got a lead,” he said, spreading the map on the table. “Scouts report increased Rift activity in the Frostveil Plateau. It’s remote, but the energy readings are off the charts.”

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Damien studied the map. “Another obelisk?”

Cassian nodded. “Most likely. And if it’s anything like the last one, it’ll be heavily guarded.”

Lyra smirked. “Good. I was starting to get bored.”

Roland chuckled. “You call the southern front boring?”

Damien traced the path on the map with his finger. “We’ll move at first light. Cassian, secure supplies for a long journey. Lyra, check with Eryndor—see if he’s learned anything new from the fragments.”

As the team dispersed, Damien felt the weight of their mission pressing down on him. The stakes were higher than ever, and failure was not an option.