Inside the warehouse, the lingering emotional silence between Eva and Rianor hadn't fully settled.
Creak... The old wooden door ahead of them suddenly groaned open. Noctis staggered inside, his body swaying heavily. Thud. His shoulder nearly crashed into the doorframe.
The assassin was an absolute wreck. His left arm hung limp and powerless at his side. The usually sleek black cloak on his back was torn wide open, exposing blackened, blistered skin.
Yet, strangely enough... the young man was still smiling.
That trademark, mischievous street grin of his hadn't faded, even with his body on the brink of collapse.
"Donar... cough..." Noctis's voice was hoarse and wet, yet his tone remained as light as a feather. "...I put him to sleep. He won't be bothering us anymore."
Roland instantly got to his feet. "You killed the Arcanum Master?"
