The night enveloped the city in a cloak of darkness, broken only by the soft glow of the barrier.
Elio stood at the edge of the wall, his figure silhouetted against the starry sky. Ember perched nervously on his shoulder.
Elio was armed to the teeth: ten max-level daggers hung from his belt, his familiar spear rested in his right hand, and the system armor gleamed faintly under the moonlight. The resistance cloak waved gently in the night breeze, and in his pockets, several oxygen stones waited to be used.
Around him, only his closest allies were present. Zara, Lucien, Selene, Kriz, Brok, Micah, Ren, and the four seductresses formed a silent semicircle behind him. The tension was palpable, mixed with concern that no one dared to express aloud. Their invocations huddled close, offering silent support to their humans.
