The muffled, distant roar echoing up through the stone floor didn't sound human. It sounded like a pack of starved wolves tearing into a fresh carcass.
Standing in the dim light of the underground armory, Sera slowly lowered her hand from her sword hilt. She stared at the ceiling, listening to the deafening cacophony of steel clashing, wood splintering, and the agonizing screams of the Vanguard nobles who thought their heavy armor made them invincible.
They weren't invincible. Not when they were being swarmed by three hundred desperate, feral students armed with mythril-tipped spears.
"It's done," Lucian said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence of the armory.
He didn't wait to watch the carnage. He walked over to a sealed, reinforced glass case at the back of the room. He raised his index finger, projecting a microscopic spatial sever directly into the locking mechanism. The heavy steel tumblers sheared cleanly in half.
