"Come, little King. You may have perfected your Law, but I wield chaos on a thousand blades." — Vorath
The shock was gone. What remained was a cold, controlled inferno, coiling through my veins and threatening to melt the corrupted iron beneath my feet. The Nexus Strike had been a declaration, a flawless gambit executed by that arrogant Alpha King, and it had crippled my command. Mocked my intelligence. Alaric had transformed, unified, and become absolute. The Crestwood Law pulsed from the Northern Castle, a perfect, unbroken shield. He was no longer a target. He was the final barrier.
I turned to Krane and Lira, my voice a low rasp, each word vibrating with the promise of retribution. "Final report on the strike damage."
