The guild leader of the Ironclad guild arrived with Aiden, Luna, and the two members of the Crimson Blade guild. As they stepped into the clearing, their eyes widened in shock and horror at the sight before them—the dead bodies of Dolof, Jason, Maria, and Liam. Marcus was slumped against a rock, his body battered and bruised, but alive.
The Ironclad guild leader rushed to Marcus, kneeling beside him with a look of concern. "Marcus, are you alright?" he asked, his voice urgent.
Marcus groaned, his breath ragged. "I... I managed to survive, but the others... they didn't make it."
The Ironclad guild leader handed Marcus a health potion, the liquid shimmering with a soft, ethereal light. "Drink this. It will help with your wounds."
Marcus took the potion, drinking it down in one gulp. He let out a sigh of relief as the potion's magic coursed through his body, healing his injuries. "Thank you," he said, his voice steady but tinged with sorrow.
