Mona pressed on relentlessly, her voice steady and analytical, leaving Nyxara little space to absorb the weight of the information that had just been unveiled.
"Lucian has gathered a striking force of fifty formidable warriors from the freshly established Thunder Clan.
Among them, the majority hold the prestigious title of Master rank, with the least experienced still shining as Elites.
Lucian himself, having recently ascended to the revered position of Grandmaster, bears the potent legacy of the Thunder God's bloodline, marking him and his chosen as the elite among this newly forged clan."
He led them west—to the territory of the white tigers."
Nyxara's ears flattened further, a low vibration humming in her chest. She didn't realize she was baring her teeth slightly, a subtle curl of the lips—not in hatred, but in pain.
Her tail lashed once behind her, a silent whip of restrained emotion.
