The Tower of Skulls
Reklos hadn't stepped in earlier for a reason. He had been watching from the sidelines, waiting to see which way the wind blew.
Worse, Eudan's invasion had clearly happened with Reklos's tacit approval. He had opened the door and watched the wolves walk in.
"You're a demigod," Orion said, his voice cutting through the smoky air. He raised the scythe, pointing the blade directly at the phantom's throat. "If someone kicked down your front door and slaughtered your people, would you offer them a handshake?"
Orion didn't wait for an answer. "If you think you can walk away from this with a simple apology, you're mistaken. If you leave now without paying the price, the Conquest Legion marches on Iron-Forged Ridge at dawn."
His eyes burned with cold resolve. "We settle this with blood. One of us dies, or it doesn't end."
Reklos recoiled. He hadn't expected the Over-tier warrior to be this unhinged. This wasn't standard abyssal diplomacy; this was a death threat.
