Far from the chaos of the Psychic Arts Faction's village, three figures stood on a cliff overlooking the sea. The icy wind was nothing to them as they were all focused on the situation happening in the ritual hall.
Indeed, their faces were grim as they stared toward the distant horizon where the faint glow of Astarith's energy had dissipated. They were even far enough that the mountains had already blocked their view but it didn't stop them from knowing what was happening there.
Caleb one of the Half-Immortals of the Faction clenched his fists. He was renowned as an old practitioner of Psychic Arts and the oldest of the three, he was the one who had discovered the ancient texts detailing the ritual to summon Astarith. His usually calm demeanor was now filled with frustration…
He didn't expect their decades of plan to go awry just like that.
"How did this happen?" Caleb said in frustration.
