"Your Grace."
"I want the name of the Serpent Gang to rot in every corner of this Duchy," Ruth said. "Spread their crimes. Let the peasants, the merchants, the guards—let them all know who these snakes are."
He paused for a second, then added, his voice icy, "And then… tear them apart."
Grant raised his head slightly, eyes sharp. "Understood, Your Grace."
"Assign squads. Five or more if needed. Crack down on every nest, every rat hole they crawl into," Ruth continued, his gaze never leaving the map. "I want every last one of those snakes pulled from their holes and cursed thoroughly before they die."
His tone turned cruel, filled with noble disdain.
"Destroy them. Burn them. I don't care how it's done, but this land—my land—must be free of those vermins."
Grant placed a hand over his chest, his face calm but respectful. "Consider it done."
Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room, cloak fluttering behind him.
