Rhazek lowered his head.
He extended the tip of that weird weapon toward the group's golden shield and gave it two light pokes.
Tiny ripples spread across the surface.
Then Rhazek turned to the crocodile beside him. His tone went solemn, like he was delivering sacred doctrine.
"Little brother, did you hear His Majesty?"
He warned him with a serious face.
"We can't kill them. Got it?"
Naiseman lifted his head in irritation.
He was half a head shorter than Rhazek, but both arms had grown into razor-edged blades. Palace light slid across the metal, throwing off a cold glare.
His gaze landed on Ethan and the others—carrying the same unsettling obsession.
"Talk too much."
Naiseman didn't even look at Rhazek.
"Next time, don't use a body with a mouth. Switch to one that can't speak."
Rhazek's ears snapped upright.
He swung his weapon and slammed it down on top of Naiseman's head.
Clang!
Metal met scales with an ear-splitting screech.
