A few minutes before Aurelus's flame transformation…
The city of Austerra was burning in more ways than one.
Smoke rolled like storm clouds above the rooftops, tinged orange by distant fires, while the echoes of clashing steel and thunderous spells cracked through the air.
In that chaos, Auren moved like a phantom.
His cloaking skill shimmered faintly around him, bending the air so that shadows clung tighter than they should.
From below, the soldiers of Austerra were frantic, their armor clattering as they combed the eastern streets.
But no matter how sharp their eyes or ears, none caught sight of the lone figure slipping by them with ease.
"That's weird," Auren muttered under his breath, slowing his sprint.
He had been moving non-stop, stacking a speed skill on top of Falcon Focus while keeping his cloaking active.
Normally, such recklessness came with a price: dizziness, shortness of breath, or the hot sting of mana burn creeping into his veins.
