The rebels moved deeper into the castle. Each corridor they entered was full of a suffocating sense of luxury, an aura that mocked the people's struggles outside these walls. Despite their progress, tension hung heavy; the Arbiter's location remained unknown.
"Where are they hiding?" Kael muttered, his grip tightening on his sword as he led the charge through a richly decorated hallway. The walls were filled with art showing grandiose, fictionalized victories of the Arbiters. Kael sneered at one depicting an Arbiter standing triumphant over a faceless horde. "Cowards," he spat. "They hide behind luxury while others fight their battles."
A group of guards suddenly emerged from a concealed door at the far end of the hall. These were the elite, clad in beautiful armor inscribed with runes. Their movements were smooth, and they wielded weapons that crackled with mana.
