Marcus laughed—a sharp, guttural sound that cut through the still air of the ruined chamber. His eyes burned with grim anticipation as they locked onto the mirror's blank, bone-white mask. There was no hesitation now. No room for doubt.
He would destroy it—whatever the cost.
"Charge!"
His voice rang out like a commandment, echoing against stone and void alike.
At once, the specters responded. His summoned warriors surged forward without hesitation. The melee trio—spear, axe, and blade—rushed toward the pale figure with unnatural speed, while the two riflemen flanked Marcus on either side, calmly raising their weapons and firing calculated volleys.
The clash was immediate and violent.
Though these summons had once fallen easily to Marcus himself, now, under his command and boosted by his mana, they held their ground with shocking effectiveness.
