Theft

Taking a deep breath, Atticus adjusted the straps of his backpack and set off in the direction of the warehouse district, a desolate section of the city notorious for its abandoned buildings and criminal activity. The once vibrant warehouses now stood like skeletal sentinels, their windows gaping maws in the fading light. As he ventured deeper into the district, the air grew thick with a shroud of decay and neglect. The only sounds were the occasional creak of a rusty door hinge or the skittering of unseen vermin in the shadows.

His mind raced with strategies. He needed a plan to infiltrate the warehouse undetected, to steal the vial of Dreamweaver's Essence without alerting the Razor Claws, a ruthless gang known for their brutality and bloodthirsty reputation. Brokk's words echoed in his mind – "They have two spirit sovereign experts." This piece of information remained stuck in Atticus' mind, he was a little curious on how quickly he would be able to defeat a spirit sovereign. Tec
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