Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
The sound of the wind whipping past echoed as five cloaked figures glided across the sky, robes fluttering like tattered flags in the storm.
Each one bore the insignia of the Ruben City Enforcement Division. They were elite mages known for their strength and discipline. Their eyes scanned the once-vibrant Rovon Wilderness below, now disturbingly silent.
"This... this doesn't feel right," muttered the middle-aged mage, his voice tense with unease. "It used to be alive down there. Chirps, growls, screeches — now, not even the wind rustles the leaves."
"I can't believe it's so silent all of a sudden. Does that mean the story of the Crimson Demon is true after all?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else.
A younger woman, her long green hair tied into a tight braid, scoffed. "Of course it's true, Callen. When so many people report seeing a demon cloaked in blood-red light and wielding a white spear, they aren't all imagining it."
