He lifted his blade, pointing it toward the pitch-black horizon where the enemy hid.
"You dared touch what's mine. You dared provoke me."A cruel smile curved on his lips, sharp and merciless.
"So come. Step forward. Let me show you why the empire calls me the Devil Wolf of the battlefield."
The ground beneath him trembled faintly with the march of approaching forces, but Demian did not move, not an inch.
Instead, he exhaled slowly, almost in anticipation, like a predator tasting the scent of fresh prey.
"Tonight," he whispered, "your death begins with me."
War erupted in two places at once on the front lines where Demian stood, and in the rear camp where Valerie was being guarded. The enemy's assault came like a wild, aimless tide, but its purpose was unmistakable, to split the commander from his army, break their formation, and strike at the weakest point within Morvex's defenses.
