Behind the three, the deserter army began reacting.
Orders shouted.
Formations tightening.
Beasts manifesting in their bodies like a cascading wave as commanders responded to the now obvious threat.
It was too late for negotiation.
Too late for peaceful resolution.
Too late for anything except violence and consequences.
The temperature kept dropping.
20 degrees below the starting point…
25 degrees.
30 degrees.
Selphira smiled… Not warmly obviously.
With the satisfaction of a predator that had been patient long enough and was finally being allowed to hunt.
"Last chance," she said quietly. "Surrender and return to your posts or accept appropriate punishment for desertion."
Silence from the army. Movement and mana signatures but no verbal response.
"Very well."
The temperature dropped another 10 degrees in a single second.
And not only that...
Selphira's mana was like a huge pressure making air feel heavier.
