Veylara nodded, a faint, confident smile touching her lips. "They won't fight when they see our banners." She paused, looking at his tired face, her tone softening slightly. "Once we reach the settlement, you will stay behind and rest, Sol. You have bled more than enough for our people today. WE will handle the expansion."
Sol let out a quiet, raspy chuckle, though his expression grew firm as he shook his head.
"No," Sol said calmly, resting his hand on the hilt of his Dreadwing blade. "I'm coming with you."
Veylara frowned subtly, stepping forward. "There's no need, Sol. Your presence alone has already won this war. You need to recover your strength—"
"I insist," Sol interrupted, his neon-crimson eyes glinting with an unyielding, quiet resolve that left no room for argument. "I want to see a proper end to this war myself... and besides, I have my own reasons. I personally want to confirm something in those territories."
