Razid began to breathe heavily. He was a man who could not even remember the last time he had faced death, since he was well-guarded by the strongest of men. Not even the king could so easily threaten his life.
However, like most—he had underestimated the fourth prince. He was no sickly royal, but Razid did not expect him to be a skilled cultivator as well, one who could even go undetected by his guards.
It seemed for the lord that he truly stood a chance of dying today, and that thought panicked him, though he did well to keep his composure.
"If you are fretful that I may relay your words to the king, I assure you, Your Highness, I possess far too much hatred to warn my enemy of his demise."
Aric shook his head, the spears inching closer to the lord.
"I must be thorough when it comes to loose ends, so I will let you live if you answer rightly."
"Please speak, Your Highness."
"You despise the king and his ideals, is that correct?" Aric asked.
"Very much so," the lord replied.
