As Dylan had suggested, they burned the corpses. The stench of charred flesh soon filled the entire village, mingling with the putrid reek of dried blood, to the point where they almost regretted their decision.
But after half an hour, they found a secluded spot, not too far from the village, where the air was more or less… breathable. They sat together, Dylan and Maggie in the front, while Élisa began absorbing the anima gems they had collected.
The gems pulsed faintly between her fingers, their energy dissipating into thin blue wisps before being drawn into her skin. Her golden eyes half-closed, her features relaxing slightly—an almost serene expression, were it not for the dried blood spatter still staining her face.
Dylan watched in silence, arms crossed, his back leaning against a tree trunk. Maggie, sitting cross-legged beside him, fiddled with a dagger between her fingers, looking vaguely impatient.
