Selamira rose.
Her gaze was sharp, precise, her presence enough to quiet the undercurrents of tension in the Keep. Without a word, she motioned with her hand, and the Atlantians moved.
The Ancient Millennium Acheron Phoenixes followed next, led by the livid Solmyron whose body was already burning with anticipation.
His steps were slow, but his intent was sharp as the wings of the Phoenixes behind him shimmered with Astral Core brilliance.
At this moment, the Monkey King floated idly above, observing.
He tilted his head and casually voiced out, "Huh. I thought this Triarcan Keep was a place where battles weren't allowed?"
Selamira's cold eyes met his.
"I do not plan to battle in this Keep," she replied flatly, already beginning to fly in the direction Achilles had gone.
Sun gave a lazy chuckle.
