The moment the spatial shackles shattered, fresh air and freedom of movement poured back into them, but it also brought with it an even colder reality.
Battle was inevitable.
Roland didn't hesitate for a second.
He unfastened the leather pouch at his waist in a flash, tossing it backward without looking. It landed precisely in the arms of Mr. Bronson, who had just regained his footing, his face still pale.
"Get back, Mr. Bronson!"
Roland's voice was short, clear, and left no room for doubt.
Simultaneously, the bracelet on his wrist responded.
In an instant, streamlined Armor had already enveloped his body. As the Weaver's Heart spun rapidly, a vast surge of Power flooded into him.
SHING!
Roland drew Bright Moon from his waist with a reverse grip. His gaze swept over his companions as they quickly assumed their battle stances, and he began issuing commands at a rapid-fire pace, each word striking like the beat of a war drum.
