Othric Von Sanguine hovered like a green sun in the skies of Sylvastein.
His journey here had been a blip. One moment, he was addressing a Cardinal of the Heliarch clan and the next, he saw his grandson being swallowed by a sea of darkness.
His action had bathed the entire stronghold in green light. Regardless, no one could take their eyes off him in the sky. Not the people of Sylvastein, not even the army of darkness below. He had only just appeared, yet the world had stopped.
There were no whispers, however, the thoughts of the people spun. This… this was a presence the people were familiar with.
Absolute power. The one that made them want to bow and submit.
The power of a Zenith.
The hearts of the people began pounding. Joy, excitement, hope. He was here. The giant of the west. The eternal Blood Sovereign was here.
But none of the people were given time to rejoice before a shudder ran through their bodies.
