"This is against our orders, Vincent." Varis warned, watching a large group of cultivators flying over the mountaintop.
It was 5 am, and the sunlight barely began to peek over the horizon, glittering the water with false jewels. From the air, the cultivators felt like they were dropping into a treasure trove.
Fifty landed in a group of over one hundred, wearing white togas. Everyone was in a good mood as they awaited the words of their unofficial leader.
"Relax, Varis." Vincent said, putting a cowboy hat over his brown, braided hair, "We're living out a pivotal moment in the war that has been raging for over a century. A lot of people have gone through hell so we could rush in and steal the limelight—not seizing it would be a waste, you know?"
"That's absurd, Vincent." Varis replied, his face contorting in a twisted scowl, "This is how our page gets erased because we got detained for insubordination."
