Kelvin recognized them instantly, the same crew that had cornered him in the Red Wastes bunker years ago, their taunts ringed as he had unleashed Xerion's flames, a desperate act that had marked his first true sync, his survival a spark that had led him to the Sanctum.
Now, they sought to exploit the wyrm's chaos, scavenging loot from the mines' ruins, their greed was endangering Valebreach's fragile stability, their presence was a big threat that he could not ignore.
Vark's voice was a low growl, his scar was twisting as he sneered, his spear tapped the ground with menace. "Back from your fancy school, hero? You abandoned Valebreach, left us to rot while you played with runes and beasts.
That Veilbane Medal won't save you. Hand over your Sanctum gear, or we will take it from your corpse." Kelvin's scars tingled, his gauntlet flared with fire runes, its glow was casting sharp shadows across the ash, his voice was steady but sharp, his resolve was unyielding.
