Julius's face twisted, contorted by an ugly blend of rage and disbelief.
His pride shattered like glass beneath his feet.
Never in his life had he been humiliated so completely, so utterly.
He had faced threats before—warriors, beasts, sneaky humans—but this?
This was worse than any blade or curse.
To stand there and watch every single person he ruled over turn their backs on him, to see them smiling, smiling at him as though he were the fool in some cruel play.
It was unbearable.
Not to mention, that just moments ago, he had felt like a god among mortals.
The taste of victory still lingered sweetly on his tongue. He had believed himself clever, untouchable.
But now, the sweetness had curdled into piss.
He felt sick with it.
'He tricked me.' Julius realized, his jaw trembling with fury. 'That bastard tricked me in front of everyone.'
And the villagers—his villagers—now stood behind the Hero, their eyes glowing with faith and hope.
