Only when their presence vanishes completely—when the storm they left behind settles into silence—does Alix allow his shoulders to ease. Just slightly.
He turns back to Gander, still lying broken in the center of the ruined battlefield.
Alix crouches beside him again. "They really gave you a beating, Gander."
Gander forces a weak laugh, dry and ragged. "My apology, Your Majesty," he rasps. "I was already injured before the fight… my mana hadn't recovered fully. If it had… I could've taken those two. Without a problem."
Alix smiles faintly, the kind that doesn't reach his eyes but carries warmth nonetheless. "It's all good. You're alive—that's what matters."
Without another word, Alix gently pulls Gander's arm over his shoulder and rises, supporting his weight with practiced ease. Gander stumbles slightly, but Alix steadies him effortlessly.
"You've done enough for today," Alix murmurs.
