"Joel!" Viana shouted, lunging forward. She tackled the traitor, her dagger slashing his arm.
He roared, swinging at her, but Joel was already there. His blade blocked the blow, forcing the man down, his knee pinning him against the ground.
"Talk," Joel growled. "Who's pulling the strings?"
The man spat, blood flecking his lips. "You're dead already. The clan knows her face, Viana, the crown princess. Arin's got plans for you."
Viana's blood ran cold, but Joel pressed the dagger harder. "What plans?"
The man laughed, then choked as Torren's bolt silenced him. Joel cursed under his breath, standing as the overseer rallied the remaining guards. Swords clashed against Joel's mercenaries, the battlefield turning chaotic.
"We're out of time," Joel said, grabbing Viana's hand. "Torren's got the captives, his men will get them to safety. We go for the overseer now or we lose him."
Viana nodded, her resolve hardening despite the fear gnawing at her. "Lead the way, Mercenary King."
