The battle in the riverbed was just as vicious and chilling as Effie had expected, with countless corpses falling into the blood-red mud… more terrible, even, beyond anything her jaded mind could have imagined.
Effie had not expected Azarax to send seven of his Dread Generals forward — having fought these ruthless thralls herself, she knew just how eerie and menacing they were. Behind each, there was a tragic legend of glory, defiance, and eventual downfall. All of them had lost to the King of Kings once, and now, their kingdoms were long forgotten.
Their glory had become submission, and their defiance was now inescapable devotion.
Morgan seemed to be holding her own against the fallen legends of the ancient past, though, moving among them like an unrelenting hurricane of steel. Her gracefully lethal body looked unscathed… but then again, wounds did not show on liquid metal.
