Deep in the fog-covered valleys of the borderlands, a group of robed priests huddled around a rune-inscribed device, their expressions ranging from tired irritation to open disdain.
The bitter wind carried the stench of sulfur and old magic as they stood near the remnants of the underground hideout they had just evacuated.
"I still don't get it. Why come all this way just to retrieve a single storage ruin? Couldn't we just make another back home? It's not like we're short on divine energy."
One of the younger priests muttered, rubbing his arms for warmth.
Another priest grunted.
"Exactly. This is a waste of time. If it weren't for that madwoman from Charrin's temple messing up the timing—"
"Enough."
The lead priest, a tall man with cold silver eyes, cut them off sharply.
"This ruin contains months of harvested mana, fused with divine essence. If it had fallen into enemy hands, especially his hands, it would have compromised our entire operation."
