Exiting the engulfed warehouse with the collected artifacts, Draven's wings carried him away from the scene of chaos. He glanced down to witness the citizens gathering at a safe distance, their faces illuminated by the raging fire. The sight of soldiers rushing towards the inferno with buckets of water signaled their attempts to douse the flames.
"Our plan is working," Margoth's voice resonated in Draven's mind, a wicked amusement underscoring his words. The orchestrated chaos was unfolding just as they had anticipated.
Soon, Draven found himself in a secluded spot, away from prying eyes. His next destination was a tavern—a place where he could blend in among the crowd, keeping his identity concealed beneath the shadows of his hood.
