Atop the city wall.
Eagle banners whipped in the wind. A burly man in gleaming red-and-gold armor stood with his cape snapping behind him, his brow furrowed with worry.
"Night is about to fall." He looked up at the sinking sun. "Only half the wall has been repaired. How are we supposed to resist the corruption of the abominations? Even with me here to block most of them, some may still slip through the gaps..."
"If Evil Spirits infiltrate the city, the citizens living inside won't be able to resist them!"
Before his words had even faded, the wall beneath his feet suddenly trembled.
"Hm?" The man lowered his gaze, and his eyes instantly sharpened.
"The living spirit... Lord Blackstone has awakened!"
"Who disturbed it? Or could it be..."
His piercing gaze swept down from the wall, quickly passing over the noisy, panicked crowd below. A heavy sensation flashed over everyone before vanishing. At last, his eyes settled on an inconspicuous youth amid the crowd.
"He is..."
The man froze for a moment, then let out a surprised sound.
"He's actually a Ritualist!"
"A Ritualist?" The follower standing beside him, clad in pitch-black metal armor, also looked down and drew a sharp breath.
"How could there be a Ritualist here?"
"Only a Ritualist can repair the Ritual on the city wall. If a Second-Order Ritualist were willing to help, there would be no need to mobilize so many laborers."
As if recalling something, the follower gritted his teeth. "Yet no matter how much the reward is raised, those damned Ritualists refuse to come out and serve the Empire!"
"It is not that they are unwilling to serve the Empire... They are simply unwilling to serve me." The burly man shook his head gravely.
"Those academy types are far too proud.