**DING!**
Mia slammed the ancient bronze bell with a metallic rod she had been holding. The sound that erupted from the massive instrument was more than mere noise; it was a declaration of war that reverberated for miles.
**DING! DING! DING!**
She continued, not even waiting for the echo from the previous ringing to fade before striking again. The rhythm was deliberate, calculated—three strikes, pause, three strikes, pause. It was the ancient battle call of the Falcon Guild, a signal that had not been used in over two decades. A signal that was more of a call for battle.
Below, the transformation of the guild base from peaceful vicinity to war machine was immediate and terrifying to behold. Footsteps could be heard echoing through the courtyard as the army chosen for the assault rushed toward the tower to assemble, surrounding it as Mia had instructed them earlier in the evening.
