Canna turned around slowly, his senses on high alert. The air around him was thick with tension, and every fiber of his being screamed that he was in danger. His eyes narrowed as he saw three figures emerge from the shadows. The one in the middle, shrouded in a dark aura, stepped forward, its voice cold and unforgiving.
"Intruder," the figure hissed, its voice like the scrape of metal on stone. "You will die."
Without warning, the figure seemed to vanish from its spot, moving with a speed that defied comprehension. Canna barely had time to react. His instincts took over, and in an instant, he teleported using a lightning spell, narrowly avoiding a fist that would have shattered his skull.
