Asher slid the ring onto his index finger, its ancient weight settling as though it had always belonged there. His voice was low, almost lost to the wind, but the word carried with it the force of ambition.
"Yes."
In that instant, the heavens responded. Golden beams rained down from above, not as searing, blinding columns as before, but as a majestic curtain of light that cascaded gently over the minotaurs like a divine mantle. The luminous veil enveloped their towering forms, while subtly repelling Asher, pushing him back as though recognizing the boundary between master and new kin.
From the mouth of the crater, Nero, Omar, and the remaining two hundred and forty battle-hardened soldiers emerged. Their boots crunched over the broken ground, the scars of their battle against House Nethaneel and House Intis still fresh in their memories. Their eyes were drawn, unwavering, to the broad back of their lord and the golden phenomenon unfolding before them.
