The group took their positions as Draven had laid out, each member of this makeshift alliance feeling the weight of what was to come. The tension in the air was thick, and for a moment, all the world seemed to hold its breath. Duchess Blackthorn glanced to her side at Count Valen, who stood beside her, golden mana flickering faintly from his staff. The two shared a brief nod, a silent acknowledgment of their years fighting together, knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses better than anyone else.
"Ready for this, old friend?" Valen's voice was low, almost a murmur lost in the vastness of the Arcane Influx chamber. The golden glow of his mana matched the determination etched on his face.
