Trafalgar followed the sound until the narrow corridor opened into a wider chamber. What he saw made him pause.
A human with short red hair was moving fast, his hands flashing as he deflected arrows one after another. But his hands weren't normal—each time they met an arrow, his skin darkened and gleamed, reshaping into iron. Sparks burst with every clash as if metal struck metal.
Facing him stood an elf, tall and sharp-eyed, bowstring taut as he loosed arrow after arrow with frightening speed.
'So that's the sound I heard…' Trafalgar thought, eyes narrowing.
But almost instantly, he realized it wasn't. The sound was sharper, deeper—something else entirely.
Behind the two fighters, the air warped. A distortion spiraled, threads of darkness bending the stone around it.
A rift.
Trafalgar's stomach dropped. '…Shit. Void creatures? Again? I thought I was protected. Why are they appearing now?'
