"Do you dare come face me?" Vite challenged.
Although the Fox family guild's players had nearly all been annihilated, the members of the Night Blades remained unscathed.
Behind Vite, thirty figures in black stood firm, a majority of whom were formidable mages.
They fixed their cold gazes on Irving, the chill emanating from them creating a palpable sense of oppression among everyone present.
"Irving, don't come over here." James shouted, glaring furiously at Vite. "You bastard, don't think I don't know what you're up to. If you want to get to him, you'll have to go through our corpses first."
James wasn't alone in his resolve. Even the twelve remaining players from the Green Ivy Group, though battered and scarred, stood tall, forming a wall of determination.
Vite sneered, casting a disdainful glance at James and his companions. "You think you can stop me?" he mocked. "A bunch of worthless ants. You are not worthy to speak with me."
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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