The entire city boiled in unrest, the streets thick with tension and fury. The Priests of the God of War were on a rampage. Word had spread that intruders not only infiltrated one of their sacred vaults but fought their way out, mocking their authority. It wasn't about the stolen goods—no, it was the sheer audacity that enraged them.
"Lock down the gates!" one of the senior priests bellowed as his war axe slammed into the stone floor.
"Since the gods have graced us with battle, we must indulge!" roared another, veins bulging across his neck.
"Anyone who captures or defeats them shall be granted a divine mark!"
Meanwhile, in the dark, filth-ridden underbelly of the city, Kael crouched beside Ariana behind a moss-coated pipe. The echo of water dripped endlessly, and the faint clatter of boots above made their hiding place feel like a coffin.
"This was supposed to be a simple retrieval but for you we need to suffer?" Kael whispered harshly, his brows furrowed in frustration.
