And Raven.
The temporal magic — the time stop, the freeze, the ability that only the most powerful beings could wield — affected everyone. Except them. Because they were — above. Above the magic. Above the time. Above the power that could freeze a room.
The Empress's sea-green eyes were on his.
"You..." she whispered. Her voice — in the frozen world, in the gray, in the silence — was the only sound. "Are you really strong enough to fight someone like them?"
'Them.'
Not him. Them. The demon subordinates. The beings that served the Demon Lord. The beings that — even the Empress, even a dragon, even a being who had ruled for a hundred years — feared. Knew about. Understood.
Raven's hand was in his pocket.
His violet eyes — bright, glowing, the only color in the gray world — looked into her sea-green ones. Directly. Without flinching. Without wavering. The gaze of a being who is not afraid. Who has never been afraid. Who does not understand the concept.
