Elana knew this battle wouldn't be easy. The weight of his presence pressed against her like a storm—this man wasn't just strong, he was a true Acolyte.
But she couldn't afford to hesitate. Brendon was out there, and he was in danger. Protecting her team came first.
"Altia, Allen," she commanded firmly, "find Brendon."
Altia stiffened, her voice cracking, "But if you defeat him—"
Elana cut her off, her voice sharp. "You'd trust the words of a reptile who shifts colors based on the situation?"
Altia's gaze flicked toward Vincent. He was watching them, lips curled into a cruel grin that made her shiver.
Allen stepped forward, his voice steady. "Please… stay safe, Captain." With that, he grabbed Altia's arm and pulled her along.
Before heading out, Allen made for the camp—he needed supplies, and most importantly, his sword.
"You're a praiseworthy leader, keeping calm even in a situation this disadvantageous," Vincent said, his saber resting lazily on his shoulder.
