Robotic

The robotic sound was deafening and loud, shaking the air.

The gazes of Erion and every single person in the expansive hall snapped toward the hallway where the noise had come from, their expressions hardening.

Every warrior in the room instinctively readied themselves, weapons drawn and auras flaring to life.

This wasn't just any sound; it was a familiar one, everyone of them had the same artifact and knew that robotic sound. Despite having seen no real action for five long years, their battle honed instincts remained razor sharp.

The atmosphere in the hall shifted dramatically.

They were the Obsidian Order's main fighting force— warriors who thrived on combat, completely addicted to the thrill of the fight.

The years of inactivity hadn't dulled their edge but rather kept them hungry, eager to unleash their pent up energy.

Now, to think that an intruder had actually attacked them? The hunger was palpable.