As the Dread Warriors rushed forward like a river of hungry steel, Effie felt the ground tremble. She was still kneeling in the mud with her head lowered, an indescribable bitterness squeezing her heart. A moment later, someone's hand grabbed her by the hair and violently jerked her head upward.
In terms of physical might, Effie was stronger than a dozen Saints… but all her strength suddenly felt meaningless under the weight of the iron hand that was pulling her upward.
Grabbed by Azarax, all she could do was grit her teeth and suppress a pained groan.
Suddenly, he was very close.
"You are facing the wrong way, priestess. Come, let us watch your city fall."
He threw her down as two soldiers grabbed her hands, binding them with enchanted shackles. A complicated weave of runes ignited on their steel surface, and she felt her essence draining quickly — soon enough, it would be completely exhausted, leaving her weak and vulnerable.
Too easy to kill.
Only…
