Gabriel's gaze lingered on Dominic's hand. There, almost hidden by the bloodstains and mud, the ring gleamed. It was a wrong move for Dominic to try to shield it; instead, he only made Gabriel more curious.
On the far side of the battlefield, everything had fallen unnaturally silent. The Eastern camp soldiers were frozen in shock. Never in their wildest nightmares had they imagined their tyrant, the indomitable Dominic, sitting at the mercy of his enemy.
For moments that felt like hours, none of them moved. Then, one by one, they began to relinquish their arms. They did not need to be told. Helmets, firearms, ammo, and magazines rolled to the ground. Spears and swords followed as the soldiers released them.
Some of the Eastern captains exchanged blank, horrified looks; even they dared not move, afraid they might suffer a fate similar to Dominic's.
"What does this mean?"
"Does this mean the Eastern camp has fallen? What about the Northern camp?"
