The crowd watched in respectful silence as their protector held the woman he loved, both of them finding a moment of peace in the middle of so much chaos and death.
But the moment could not last forever.
There was still work to be done.
Jolthar gently moved Cleora back, his hands resting on her shoulders. "There are still a few things to deal with," he said quietly, and his gaze moved toward the two figures still cowering by the fountain.
He walked past Cleora with measured steps, and she could see the gentleness drain from his face as he focused on the tasks that remained.
By the time he reached the fountain, he had once again become the terrible figure who had defied a deity and emerged victorious.
Lord Eude and the surviving mercenary captain looked up at him with the desperate hope of condemned men who still clung to the possibility of mercy.
But there was no mercy in Jolthar's burning eyes.
