"Godfrey…!" Mrs. Joy gasped as she stared at Godfrey standing alone on the rooftop before all of them. Seeing him standing there, all she could see was Roland, superimposed on his son.
Was this what Roland fought to preserve in this world?
She watched as the minotaurs roared and raised their weapons at the other side of the street. Their lines were chaotic; their crimson eyes gleamed with baleful light.
A mighty roar came from their ranks, and the minotaurs, about two hundred and sixty of them, with the marauders at the forefront, charged at the disciplined line of the golden-armoured knights.
Tempest lifted one arm up, and a bright golden light blasted out, not as a beam but as a radiance, washing over the minotaurs.
"Die, you filth," declared Tempest with a solemn, heavy voice.
