The Sanatan Flame Sect marched forward in formation— weapons drawn, spiritual senses sharpened, every disciple alert and ready.
Only one person walked differently.
Shaurya.
Hands in pockets.
Relaxed shoulders.
A lazy sigh leaving his mouth as if he were strolling through a park instead of a collapsing ancient castle.
Lin Shu walked beside him, sword in hand, eyes scanning every shadow.
Lorgann, tiny and molten, clung onto Shaurya's shoulder, eyes darting everywhere like a paranoid watchdog.
The group took five more steps—
RUMBLE.
The ground trembled.
RUMMMMMMMBLE.
The walls shook.
The air vibrated.
A low groan rolled through the stone like the castle itself was waking up.
Then everything began to quake violently.
The entire hall jerked sideways.
Cracks split across the floor.
Loose stones clattered from the ceiling.
The Sanatan Flame Sect disciples staggered.
Elders shouted at once:
"EVERYONE—TAKE YOUR GUARD!!"
Swords were raised.
Spears pointed outward.
