Zorwath stood tall on the blackened stone, cloaked in silence, as the wind howled with the cries of the dying.
His golden-carved robe shimmered under the burning sky, but his face… that face could have belonged to an angel — if not for the twisted glint of chaos in his eyes.
He raised one hand toward the wounded Krovekan city.
"Take her with us," he ordered coldly, gesturing at Qarina's broken body lying in the rubble. "Even shattered weapons can still amuse me."
The general bowed and snapped his fingers. Two dark soldiers formed from smoke and bone appeared beside him, moving toward Qarina.
She groaned faintly, her body twitching. Her eyes burned with defiance, but her strength was slipping fast.
"You'll regret this…" she whispered, but her voice was too soft, too weak.
Zorwath turned to her, tilting his head slightly.
"Oh? I hope so," he said with a smile that sent chills into the soul of the planet.
Then, he lifted his hand higher.
