Meanwhile, not too long after he had met Damon in the halls, Antares stomped through the corridors of his family's estate, his footsteps echoing more like war drums, fury radiating from his body.
"MOVE!" He roared at the guards stationed along the halls, not wanting any of them to remain in his sight.
"Yes, Young Master!" The guards all said simultaneously, bowing and swiftly removing themselves from the environment, heading separate directions to avoid being caught by Antares' fury. They knew better than to provoke the son of Varus when he was in such a state.
As for Antares, a million thoughts were swirling through his mind. His fists were tightly clenched, to the point of drawing blood from his palm that dripped onto the floor. He barely resisted the urge to just punch a hole in the walls beside him.
"How, how is that bastard alive, and who is that girl beside him." He muttered to himself as he thought of what happened.
