Khepri stood still atop the stone shoulder of the archer-giant, his golden robe fluttering slightly in the dusty wind stirred by the chaos below. His gaze remained fixed on the battlefield, watching with an unreadable expression as the spear-wielder collapsed in a cascade of crumbling stone, its core obliterated by that boy's unnatural precision.
A deep, slow breath escaped his lips.
He could hardly claim surprise at the inevitable downfall of the giants. In truth, he recognized that the boy was no ordinary, reckless youth wielding a vengeance-soaked blade. There was a fierce, calculating intelligence behind the boy's eyes, a meticulous awareness that encompassed everything around him. He had anticipated this moment, had even braced himself for the loss of one or two giants in the fray. But this? This swift, clean decimation was beyond anything he had envisioned.
