Effie sighed deeply, waiting for the brief moment of stillness to end. Once it did, she would probably turn into a pincushion… surviving that would be a challenge.
She could almost see when the hesitation in the eyes of the soldiers was replaced by malice and willingness to act. Even their fear of the plague was drowned out by bloodlust at that moment.
But just before the soldiers could snap, a low voice reverberated above the crowd:
"Who the hell gave you mongrels the audacity to block the entrance to my tent?"
And almost immediately, that bloodlust was replaced by terror.
The crowd of soldiers parted, revealing the imposing figure of Azarax, the King of Kings. He wore a dark, dangerous expression, and his eyes were seething with barely contained rage.
When he noticed the javelin sticking from the mud near Effie, that scathing gaze turned even more terrifying.
In a voice that sounded almost like a growl, Azarax asked his soldiers:
