All the familiars around suddenly burst into red clouds of mist, flowing through the air back to their summoners.
The summoners stood motionless, their expressions were clear evidence of fear. They had made their choice to retreat their familiars—a choice that might cost them their careers, but they couldn't care less given that they preserved what mattered most: their familiars.
Lucian shot a dead glance at them from behind, his piercing gaze so intense that they could all feel it without turning around, but they couldn't care.
The weight of his disapproval was nothing compared to the reality of losing their familiars. They'd rather get kicked out from the FSG than lose their companions, their partners, their other halves.
Most would rather die than live without a familiar in this world. As far as one is a red-marked summoner, there are still countless opportunities awaiting them if they resign from the FSG this instant.
