She took a deep breath, lifting her head to look Klaus in the eye with a bitter determination.
"I don't know if you've ever heard of him," she continued, her blue eyes darkening with an intense hatred. "My dad's name was Lord Varhem. He had an elite forward operating base out here in the Winterlands... but a few weeks ago, he was killed in cold blood, along with every single guard in his camp."
She clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white.
"The local authorities said it was monsters, but I know the truth. It was the Cult. They slaughtered my father and stole everything he owned."
The silence that fell over the frozen clearing was too much.
Mirela froze, her hand hovering over the wooden jar of ointment with her blue eyes widening in sudden terror as she looked at Klaus.
Klaus didn't move a single muscle.
His face remained locked in a mask of total indifference but internally, the thudding nuclear furnace of his divine core seemed to skip a beat.
