Moments after the dark figure vanished, the rush of wind signaled a group of figures descending into the clearing, each one radiating a fierce, unmistakable power.
They took in the scene before them, the scattered bodies of the dark robed attackers, the crimson armored guards barely holding themselves upright, and standing calmly amidst it all was a lone figure with purple hair.
The newcomers exchanged wary glances, their focus zeroing in on Zarak. Their expressions shifted to suspicion as they sized him up.
"Is he responsible for this?" one of them muttered, his eyes narrowing in Zarak's direction.
A bald man at the front took a step forward, his gaze sharp and accusing.
"You there!" he called out, his voice edged with suspicion. "Identify yourself."
Zarak met his glare with a calm look, arms crossed. His silence only seemed to deepen their unease.