The area around the Ramuza family seemed grand and saintly, as they presented themselves to the public—walls painted in soft cream, lamps glowing orange, flags waving with holy patterns. The image of Ramuza in front of Baku City seemed divine, pristine, like a family chosen by the gods. But under those robes of respect, their roots crawled into the underworld, hidden ties with Tideborn.
As Vaiven's crew members stepped inside, the air shifted. Voslimo stood waiting, wearing a blue printed torso cloth, the fabric decorated with swirling patterns of cranes and dragons. His body looked giant, shoulders heavy like a mountain, belly wide, his face carrying both warmth and something unreadable.
Back to the moment, where Voslimo asked—his deep voice cracking the silence:
"Here in Baku, searching for Ash Phantom?? Who is he now??"
The question itself cut through the greeting air, sharp, weighted.
