After the shocking incident in the courtyard, the atmosphere within the stronghold shifted. The air grew tense, thick with unease. Emery watched as the fortress erupted into a flurry of controlled activity. Dozens of new warriors arrived at the gates, reinforcing security. Spirit masters clad in glowing robes moved swiftly through the compound, scanning acolytes, interrogating officers, and calling out individuals to be brought in for further investigation. The tension was palpable, as if the entire place braced itself for an invisible, creeping enemy.
By noon, Emery received a summons along with the other alchemists and captains of the newly arrived forces.
Inside the chamber, standing like a pillar of might, was Illir Batara—the famed Warmaster. A supreme figure whose mere presence could silence a room. His silver hair flickered like embers, his aura pulsing with a barely contained inferno. Despite his intimidating appearance, his tone was surprisingly solemn.