The Commander's shadowy form pulsed with amusement, the oppressive mana in the clearing shifting like a living thing. "Surrender," the cold voice echoed again. "Your King is newly chosen. His domain is weak. Under my King's wing, you might yet survive."
Scarlet's grip on her daggers tightened, her knuckles white. Every instinct screamed at her to run. This thing? It wasn't just strong—it was on another level entirely. The werewolves had been tough, but this? This was like standing in front of a hurricane and pretending you could weather it.
Arachne, though? She didn't budge. Her knees shook, her breath came fast, but she stood her ground. "Let me counter your offer," she said, voice steady despite the fear tightening her throat. "Leave immediately. Maybe my Lord will spare you."
