The journey back from the Blackstone Gorge was smooth and uninterrupted under the imperial detachment's watchful eye. Kale Ardentis rode his grey steed through the high stone arches of Emberheart's eastern gates, the cool morning breeze refreshing against his face.
Behind him, the eight elite imperial artificers maintained a disciplined double line, their silver armour clanking softly in unison as they navigated the wide stone avenues.
The capital's urban bustle welcomed them as shopkeepers unbolted their wooden shutters along the market streets. News of the sudden clash in the Blackstone Gorge had not yet spread among the common citizens, keeping the central district peaceful and orderly.
Deep within his spatial storage, the three glowing containers extracted from the ancient altar vibrated with subtle, dormant energy.
Neo rested motionless and matte-black on Kale's right shoulder, its six golden eyes closed in deep meditation.
