Power the likes of which could suffocate the world and oppress minds descended.
Theron coughed, blood—or what should have been blood—leaking down his body in wisps. They should have been waves instead, but the power accumulated in those javelins was so much that Theron couldn't even manage to keep his blood in a liquid state anymore.
The gap was enormous, and Sadie was already raising up her hands again.
This time, his state seemed too poor to even fight back properly. All he could do was stand there and wait for death.
Theron looked up and met the crowned gaze. He didn't seem to be looking at Sadie at all, but instead the title of royalty that hung above her head.
He really did hate royalty. For much of the beginning of his life, he had dreamed of becoming an Imperial Scholar, of helping the world to become a better place through his knowledge and intelligence.
