Meanwhile, back in Crimson Vow's private guild base—shit was not okay.
Lucas was losing his damn mind.
"FUCK!!" he roared as he kicked a metal chair across the hall. It clanged into a crate and sent potions scattering. A couple of guild members nearby flinched and looked away, pretending they didn't see anything.
Lucas grabbed a decorative spear off the wall and hurled it like a javelin, shattering the digital display board that showed the last raid rankings. Xavier's name sat right on top—bold, golden, untouchable.
Lucas was practically foaming at the mouth now. "I had him! I had him! That smug bastard! He was right fucking there—" He swung his sword wildly in the air, mimicking the moment he tried to strike Xavier at the end of the raid, only to get teleported out like a clown mid-swing. "AND I LOOKED LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT!"
No one argued.
