Chapter 121: Ch119. It is a question
The moment the Scryer spoke, the air in the Scrybay seemed to freeze.
Kurt went still beside Miles, the usual sharp glint in his eyes darkening into something unreadable. Miles, still gripping the newly transformed scythe, felt the weight of the Scryer’s words press down on him like a vice.
Another player? In The Horizon?
Then, realization dawned on Miles.
"Fuck..."
Kurt had told him not to summon anything from his inventory, but he had completely forgot about the [Harbinger’s Scythe], thinking that relying only on the makeshift knives Kurt had given him prior to coming to Luna Sea was going to be enough.
It was a bad choice.
Before he could react, the heavy thud of boots against scrap metal cut through the silence. The door to the Scrybay groaned open, and a group of figures stepped inside.
They were draped in layered coats of mismatched armor, some of it made of metal, some of it were reinforced cloth, all of it worn from use. Their faces were concealed beneath masks, some fashioned from bone, others from the broken visors of old helmets.
The tallest of them, a woman whose mask bore the intricate carvings of a shattered moon, stepped forward.
"The Master calls." Her voice was smooth, yet edged with something firm, something absolute.