Magnus's gaze held the quiet pride of a father, though Lindarion was far from being his son.
"Step out. We need to discuss the things that happened inside of the dungeon."
His voice, as always, was authoritative—yet there was an unusual softness laced within it.
The trainees exchanged glances, then nodded. Numbers Eight and Twelve lingered a moment longer, their eyes briefly meeting Lindarion's. Once he gave them a slight nod, they exited.
As soon as the door closed, a circular barrier materialized around them.
"A soundproofing barrier?" Lindarion asked with a faint smirk. "The topic's that serious, huh?"
Magnus simply shook his head.
"Of course it is, kid. You must've realized it—the dungeon wasn't normal. It was far stronger than it should've been."
Lindarion exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples.
"Then why send us?" His emerald gaze sharpened, piercing into Magnus's like a blade. "Why not a professional team?"
