Cain's journey into the inner ring of the sect did not take long. As soon as he set foot there, his eyes narrowed, instantly picking up on the tension saturating the air. Every Divine Transcendence Master he saw radiated an air of coldness and caution, keenly observing each other as though a simple misstep could ignite open hostilities. Any semblance of racial harmony was gone, replaced by a silent standoff. All these figures belonged to the Light Camp, yet three distinct factions had formed among them, each harboring hostility toward the others.
Cain felt their stares turn toward him, prickling his skin with open hostility. Since he belonged to no faction, he was a potential enemy to every one of them. A swirl of unspoken suspicion hung in the streets like a fog, and Cain had no illusions about how precarious his position was. Still, he paid no heed to their sharp gazes.
