Chapter 1283

Chapter 1283:

Bryan’s fist hovered in the air, Amon’s blood staining his knuckles.

He shut his eyes briefly, and when they opened, a flicker of resolve had returned. “Amon, escort the king back to Marehelm.”

“Understood!” Amon bowed, his face bruised and swollen, yet he made no move to wipe the blood from his mouth.

Once Amon and the troops departed, Bryan and I rallied the remaining soldiers to search for a path down the cliff.

Thorns snagged at my clothes, tearing fabric, but I pressed on, my thoughts consumed by the image of Makenna’s fall.

“Here!” a soldier called, pointing to a steep, treacherous trail.

We half-slid, half-stumbled down to the base of the chasm.

The river roared, its furious currents scouring the banks, cold spray stinging my face.

I scoured the riverbank with desperate intensity, overturning every stone, leaving nothing unchecked.

“Dominic!” Bryan’s voice cut through the din, taut with urgency.

I stumbled toward him and froze. Snagged on the thorns were tattered scraps of fabric—unmistakably Makenna’s.

The nearby rocks shimmered with a thin sheen of ice, frost crystals clinging to the foliage, and the air carried the unmistakable chill of the sacred artifact.

“She is alive…” I whispered, my trembling fingers brushing the frost. “The sacred artifact is protecting her…”

Bryan’s fist crashed against a frozen tree trunk, sending shards of ice scattering like shattered glass. “Then where is she?” he demanded, his voice raw with desperation.

We widened our search in a fevered rush, our shouts echoing through the depths of the valley.

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The soldiers overturned every stone, some plunging into the frigid river, braving the icy currents in their desperate quest for any sign of Makenna.

As night descended, cloaking the valley in shadow, we found nothing beyond the tattered scraps of fabric and the faint shimmer of ice crystals.

“Impossible.” I sank to my knees by the riverbank, staring at my warped reflection in the churning water. “She can’t be gone…”

Bryan stood behind me, his breaths ragged and uneven. The sound of his fists tightening, knuckles popping, mingled with the stifled sobs he fought to contain.

We stood there, two hollow husks, stripped of hope, enveloped by the creeping darkness, unable to face the unbearable truth looming before us.

Dominic’s POV:

“Your Highness!” A soldier’s urgent cry cut through the stillness of early morning.

“We’ve found the sacred artifact downstream!”

Bryan and I both jolted, nearly leaping from the ground.

I forgot to breathe as I rushed after the soldier toward the site of the discovery. Cold river water splashed over my shoes, and in the soft glow of dawn, the sacred artifact lay upon the stones, glowing faintly blue.

“Just… the sacred artifact? What about Makenna?” My voice trembled.

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