The Castle of Doom, once the chaotic battleground where the echoes of combat resounded, now bore the marks of a hard-fought victory.
The air shimmered with residual energies, and the ethereal dust of the defeated Wormgod lingered in the aftermath.
As the guild leaders gathered to discuss the losses, check inventories, and prepare for the looming challenge on the morrow, a heavy silence settled over the timesquare.
The grandeur of their triumph was juxtaposed against the grim reality of the losses they had suffered, particularly the unexpected demise of Gilbert.
They really could still use the guy.
The air seemed thick with uncertainty, and Xin could sense the weight of collective doubt hanging in the atmosphere.
The guild leaders, normally adorned with the mantle of authority, now wore expressions of contemplation and concern.