It was Ellisa. She was wearing a wide, shimmering gown that trailed behind her like the plumage of a fancy peacock. She stood with her arms crossed, watching her new proteges with a smirk of satisfied ownership. She looked radiant, powerful, and utterly convinced of her own superiority.
The opening demonstrations were a masterclass in flashy, textbook power. The four elite recruits were all C-grade—the gold standard for fresh blood. Beyond Lok's fireballs, the second fire-user could wreath her entire arms in living flame.
The third, a stern-faced youth, manifested hundreds of iron needles that hovered in the air like a metallic swarm, ready to shred anything in their path.
The final member of the "Golden Four" summoned a localised tornado, a swirling vortex of pressurised air that formed a five-meter defensive dome.
