"It will be over soon," Fyren murmured, gazing down as the Solori mountains rolled beneath us.
We flew on Borealis's back, headed to the inner peaks where High Valley was nestled. There were still millions of demons, but the battle had taken its toll. Korra, Gayron, and Grace had slaughtered dozens of high-level evolved demons, and now that the demon lord of death had joined the hunt for the remainder, it wouldn't be long before it was just Rash'alon holding the marks of the entire infernal horde.
"Don't worry. Have faith in your apostle," Verity said, resting a hand on my shoulder.
I looked up at her, giving a tentative smile. My hand curled against the warmth pulsing within my breast, the ring pressing into my palm. It was uncanny how quickly Verity began to guess what I was thinking.
"I don't have much left in me, either," I said quietly, my eyes turning back to the rolling sea of black flesh beneath. "And there are so many demons. Even if Luke wins...will they follow?"
