"Ah, you came."
The voice was not from the man astride the three-headed dragon, Malrath, Abyssal general without rival, but from the massive wall of gray smoke roiling behind him.
It was a woman's voice, smooth yet serrated, filled with confidence long since decayed into mad arrogance and self-exaltation.
"You had the mind to bring millions to their deaths. As always, the chivalry of knights proves itself foolish."
"So you expect us to wait then? To allow you to march into our realms, to unmake all that remains of the Creator's hand, and destroy the soil where we still exist?!" Athanatos's roar cut the air like a war horn, his gaze burning sharp as steel.
"Malrath. Take care of this pests."
