In no time, bodies littered the ground, some dead, others groaning in pain, struggling to recover from the brutal injuries they had suffered at his hands.
Though many more still charged at him, Rohan did not break a sweat as he fought them off.
The king watched, almost in disbelief.
He had heard stories and even witnessed firsthand the ferocity with which his nephew had fought as a boy. But never had he imagined that, as a grown man, Rohan could so effortlessly slaughter his best-trained guards. He tore them apart limb by limb as if they were made of paper.
And all the while, as he fought, his darkened eyes never left Zion—his target for coming here.
The king did not like that look on his face, nor did he like the fact that Rohan was killing so many of his important men.
But he had prepared for this moment.
Thanks to an unknown ally, he had a little surprise of his own for his arrogant nephew, who fought below like a man who believed he could not die.
