Lancelot and Rathlos were about to move forward and attack when they suddenly paused. Their eyes turned toward Dorian, who had taken out a strange piece of parchment from his robe. The parchment looked old, and strange symbols were drawn across its surface. They didn't look like any normal magical symbols, and for some reason, just looking at them gave both of them a strange feeling of deja vu.
Lancelot's expression immediately became serious. His body instinctively tensed, and his hand tightened around his weapon. After countless years of fighting, his battle-hardened senses had saved his life more times than he could count. Right now, every one of those senses was screaming at him to stay away from that parchment.
