The Elder clapped softly.
Three figures stepped forward, each briefly releasing their spiritual aura. It was enough to assert their dominance without wasting unnecessary energy.
Death Sword was the first to emerge from the shadows.
His aura was sharp, metallic, and suffocating—pure killing intent forged through countless battles. He wore a crimson cloak spattered with faint patterns resembling dried blood. His armor was simple but practical, each piece reinforced with spiritual inscriptions designed to enhance his speed and durability.
Two twin blades rested across his back, their edges faintly trembling as if eager to draw blood.
Even his scarlet demonic mask seemed alive, its eyes glowing faintly with killing light.
Yet the most terrifying aspect of his presence was the death aura mixed into his killing intent.
Tiny crimson runes, resembling glowing veins, ran throughout Death Sword's clothing. They formed an intricate network that created a field around his body, interfering with spiritual energy and making it difficult for anyone to probe him without being detected.
Death Sword's gaze swept across Sifir.
"I am Death Sword, field commander of Quiet Storm. You follow my orders, and you might survive. If not, death is your punishment."
His voice was cold and absolute.
There was no threat behind his words.
Only certainty.
The next figure stepped forward from the shadows.
Purple Night.
She was graceful yet dangerous.
Her qi was cool and seductive, like moonlight gathering beneath the clouds before a storm. Her purple-and-black attire shimmered faintly whenever she moved, every section of the clothing laced with protective sigils and subtle illusion formations.
Beauty and lethality existed in perfect balance around her.
The same type of runes that covered Death Sword's clothing pulsed throughout hers as well.
But unlike his crimson, vein-like patterns, Purple Night's runes glowed with an eerie, dark-purple light.
The tiny runes constantly shifted across her clothing, forming an intricate network that strengthened her spiritual perception while allowing her to detect and counter spiritual probing.
Worse, they could be used to launch mental attacks against anyone foolish enough to intrude upon her mind.
Her mask was carved with sleek purple demonic elegance. A faint purplish-pink sigil glowed upon its forehead, marking her psychic affinity.
When she spoke, her voice was smooth but authoritative.
"I am Purple Night, captain and squad tactician. When I speak, you listen. Death Sword leads, but I decide when you live."
She flicked her wrist.
A talisman formed from condensed spiritual energy briefly unfurled from her right hand before dissolving into nothingness.
The final figure stomped forward from the shadows.
Heavy-footed.
Ill-tempered.
Jagged Black.
He was a mountain of fat and attitude.
His aura crackled with violent energy, raw and unstable, like magma forced into human form. Two broad, serrated machetes hung at his sides, humming with rumbling killing qi.
Bright-orange runes glowed across his clothing.
Like his two squadmates, the runes served a purpose beyond simple decoration.
However, Jagged Black's were far simpler.
Rather than forming vein-like patterns, his orange runes were arranged in crude, interconnected designs across his clothing.
They weren't designed to conceal his presence.
They were designed to keep him together.
His mental state was already dangerously unstable, and the runes helped restrain the violent fluctuations within his mind.
His orange-and-black mask was chipped along the edges, with cracks running through several places, giving him an even more savage appearance.
"Name's Jagged Black," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "Don't slow me down, little grunt."
The atmosphere immediately tightened.
The Elder raised one hand.
The growing tension vanished beneath the pressure of his spiritual authority.
"Enough. You'll have plenty of time to test each other's temperament in the field."
The Elder turned toward Sifir.
He looked him up and down before shaking his head with mild amusement.
"Where is the clothing that was given to you?"
Sifir glanced down at himself.
"They're still in the room. Was I supposed to wear those?"
A light chuckle escaped the Elder, though annoyance was clearly mixed into it.
"Why would they have been given to you if you weren't supposed to wear them?"
He sighed.
"You'll have time to change your attire soon enough. The clothing you're wearing now is far too eye-catching. I don't want everyone immediately knowing you're from the Midnight Clan."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"And if they are able to figure it out, I still want them to have to guess."
Sifir said nothing.
The Elder's cold gaze swept over the four members of Unit 04.
"Your mission: infiltration and sabotage."
The room fell silent.
"Your target is Twin Moons City, a neutral hub between the human and dragon borders."
A faint projection appeared in the air.
Twin Moons City.
A massive city positioned between two powerful territories.
"A place where the strong gather and rare items can be acquired," the Elder continued. "You will gather intelligence on the Dragon Clan's economic and military activity within the city. Identify hidden holdings. Sabotage several key locations among the dragon factions and human clans."
His lips slowly curved upward.
"And…"
The Elder's eyes gleamed.
"…create chaos."
The projection vanished.
His gaze settled upon Sifir.
"Since you're from the Midnight Clan, you may choose your own codename."
Before Sifir could respond, Jagged Black barked out a laugh.
"Dead Night! Fits perfectly—quiet and lifeless."
Sifir tilted his head.
His expression remained indifferent.
"You know, Jagged, when the night falls, even black becomes invisible."
His gaze shifted toward the massive man.
"Remember that."
The air suddenly turned sharp.
Jagged Black's smile disappeared.
For a brief moment, neither man moved.
The Elder's amusement flickered.
Then a mental message suddenly intruded into his mind.
**Keep him alive. Orders from above.**
The Elder's expression hardened.
*Damn him.*
"Enough," the Elder snapped.
His spiritual pressure surged.
"Speak again, Jagged, and I'll refine your soul."
Jagged Black froze.
Even Death Sword looked slightly impressed.
Purple Night's lips curved faintly beneath her mask.
She was intrigued.
The new arrival had managed to provoke both a fool and the Elder within moments of arriving.
Finally, Sifir spoke.
"My codename is Fall Night."
The Elder stared at him for a moment.
Then he nodded.
"Good."
His gaze shifted toward the doorway.
"Now change into your new attire."
Sifir returned several minutes later.
His appearance had completely changed.
He wore an all-black set of clothing and gauntlets. Faint black runes ran throughout the fabric, similar to those worn by his squadmates.
But his runes were different.
They released a heavy, dense aura of stillness.
At the same time, they seemed to devour the surrounding light.
His cloak was matte black, absorbing the faint light around him rather than reflecting it. Symbols and intricate runes were etched across the hood, their purpose hidden beneath layers of spiritual inscriptions.
They weren't designed for appearance.
They were designed to interfere with spiritual probing.
The runes concealed both his mind and body, making it significantly more difficult for others to determine his cultivation, physical condition, or mental state through spiritual perception.
Sifir stood silently before the Elder.
For the first time, he looked like he belonged among Quiet Storm.
The Elder gave a thin smile.
"So be it."
His gaze passed over the four members of Unit 04.
"Unit 04—Quiet Storm—departs at dawn."
He paused.
"Remember your mask."
His eyes narrowed.
"Your silence."
A final pause.
"And your purpose."
The room fell silent.
Tomorrow, Quiet Storm would depart for Twin Moons City.