"Don't underestimate this place," Naval warned, gripping her rapier. "These souls are not just lingering—they're desperate. They've been waiting for centuries to lash out at the living."
Lilian cracked her knuckles, dark flames flickering around her gauntlets. "Let them try. I could use a proper warm-up."
Leon remained silent, his gaze locked on the ruined temple's massive gates, where a faint golden glow pulsed ominously. Without a word, he raised his hand, activating Origin Conjurer.
Immediately, three figures materialized beside him—each one equal to his level and power.
A Golden Knight, clad in radiant armor that seemed to hum with divine energy, his sword exuding an aura of absolute destruction.
A Destruction Magus, his robes shifting like a void of nothingness, eyes burning with chaotic energy.
A Blood Magus, her presence alone making the air feel heavier, her hands dripping with liquid crimson as if reality itself bled at her command.
