Lucas finished calling the last name and let the silence settle properly before speaking again, allowing the weight of the decision to sink into the twelve cultivators standing before him. Their expressions were varied, some resolute, some grim, and some quietly burning with anticipation, yet none of them looked away from him.
"You have been chosen," Lucas said calmly, his hands clasped behind his back as he faced them. "Not because you are expendable, and not because you are convenient, but because you have the strength, the discipline, and the mindset required for what lies ahead."
One of the women inclined her head slightly. "What is our next instruction."
Lucas appreciated the lack of unnecessary bravado. "For now, I want you to go to the quartermasters and request a special robe. It will be issued under my authority, so there should be no delay."
A man among them frowned slightly. "A robe, my lord. For battle."
