"Those low on spiritual energy, move to the center!" Duke commanded, his spear cutting through the advancing horde without pause.
Draped in his Kratos Cloak, Duke stood unwavering at the vanguard.
Though its fur-lined neck seemed stifling and ill-suited to the searing heat, they had found ways to mitigate the discomfort, allowing him to wear it without issue.
The golden lion embroidered on the back of his cloak gleamed in the sunlight, exuding an aura of strength and heroism.
His commanding presence was like a beacon, inspiring those around him.
Unbeknownst to the others, this surge of energy wasn't purely emotional—it was an effect of the cloak itself, a hidden skill amplifying morale and resolve.
Fueled by this unseen force, the team fought with renewed vigor, their strikes sharper, their movements more decisive, as if Duke's unyielding figure lent them his strength.
