Arin and his guild members had completely surrounded the Slave Trade Guild's hideout.
Every single person gripped their weapon tightly, knuckles pale from the pressure, muscles coiled and ready to respond to any sign of danger.
Swords were half-drawn, bows already nocked, mana quietly circulating beneath the skin of spellcasters.
The air around them felt tense, heavy, as though a single spark could ignite chaos.
Though most of the Crimson Arc Guild members did not fully understand what was happening, one thing was clear to all of them.
Judging from the solemn expressions etched across their guild master's face, this mission was far more important than any they had undertaken before.
No one dared to ask questions.
Fear and anticipation mixed uneasily in their chests.
Thoren, however, stood apart from them all.
He remained calm, unnervingly so.
