Lyra finished her spell, then grabbed his collar roughly. "Listen to me. The others think you're a tactician. A clever adventurer who always has a plan. But I've seen your eyes when you think no one is watching." Her voice dropped. "You're not planning to survive. You're planning for us to survive without you."
The Sanctum did not welcome them.
Helm said nothing. He looked past her, toward the distant glimmer of the next chamber — the entrance to the Sunken Sanctum. Their true objective. The artifact that could end the seasonal ghoul tides. Worth any cost. Lyra finished her spell, then grabbed his collar roughly
"Will face us ." Gunther hefted his axe. "Not just you, tactician. Us. The whole party. The one you keep trying to protect by pushing yourself into the dark." A clever adventurer who always has a plan
"I'm not running," he said. But his voice cracked. You're planning for us to survive without you
The construct lunged.
"Ara… you're bleeding again." Lyra's voice cut through the ringing in his ears. The elf knelt beside him, her fingers already glowing with faint restoration magic. "Your left side — third rib. Cracked, not broken. You'll live."