"The mad spawn is here too…"
"Even the great Ozzy…"
The fearful looks weren't all focused on Atticus alone. Over the course of a decade, almost everyone standing behind him had their names etched into their minds.
Most of that attention shifted toward Whisker and Ozeroth, the two who had spent the most time beside Atticus during their conquest.
As Ozeroth heard his title, his lips twitched faintly. His gaze slid toward Whisker, then hardened into a death glare.
Whisker, meanwhile, had a hand over his mouth, his shoulders subtly shaking as he tried, and failed, to hold back his laughter.
"You…" Ozeroth growled.
While Whisker and the others had earned cool, dangerous-sounding nicknames, he had somehow ended up with this ridiculous title. And Whisker had been the root of it all.
After their first conquest, when the inhabitants of that world had been watching them in fear, Whisker had chosen that exact moment to disguise himself among them and shout…
All hail the great Ozzy!
