Several of my warriors had been caught in the sudden upheaval, tumbling into the jagged depths of the crater that now marred the street.
I held my breath for a split second, scanning the pit, but relief washed over me when I saw them scrambling back up—bruised, but not a single one was truly hurt.
My eyes immediately snapped upward, locking onto the source of the chaos. High in the air, perched atop a massive, predatory eagle, stood a young Illusionist. He looked down at us with a gaze that wasn't just arrogant; it was arctic.
I met that look with a mask of absolute calm. "It's not a good thing to throw a fist before a word," I said, my voice carrying through the still air with an icy, level tone.
"He is strong," the Jumper whispered. He had appeared at my side without a second of delay, his body tense, his hand hovering near his weapon. I could feel the slight tremor in the air around him—a sign that he was sensing a threat on a different frequency than most.
