Mariana, the S-tier awakened combatant from Colombia, leaned against the railing of New Dawn's upper terrace with a thin cigarillo pinched between two fingers.
The mountain air was cold enough to bite, but the smoke curled lazily from her lips as if the altitude meant nothing to it. Below, the guild hall hummed with the quiet efficiency of a machine that never stopped running.
Above, the stars were sharp and close in a way they never were back home.
She pulled up the standings on her projection artifact and frowned.
New Dawn sat comfortably at the top, exactly where they belonged. Iron Halo held second, steady and predictable. Ashbound clung to third.
Her frown was reserved for fifth place.
"Runewoven," she read aloud, as if the name itself was an inconvenience. "62,390. Up from dead last in a week."
