That night, five demons stepped onto the grounds surrounding the heavily guarded assassin stronghold. The small group was led by Arius, who paused at the edge of the compound, his gaze sweeping over the defenses with a cruel, knowing smirk tugging at his lips. He was a demon who fed on fear and destruction, and tonight, he had come to indulge in both.
Arius was no longer a mercenary and he had been content to leave that part of his life behind in his part. He had made that clear to Ragnar when the offer was first presented. But the sum the prince had placed on the table had been persuasive. An amount that demanded not just success, but perfection. And Arius had always taken pride in one thing above all else, his thoroughness.
A payment like that did not allow for loose ends.
