Tap… Tap… Tap…
Footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. Inside a cell, Drohan lifted his head, iron chains clinking with the movement. His lips curled into a cruel grin.
"Heh. Have you come to beg for her life? Hahaha!" His laughter rang out mockingly.
Bennett stopped in front of the bars, her expression cold. Her eyes never wavered at his Tuant.
"Tristan," she said flatly, extending her hand. "The sword."
Shing.
The metallic hiss cut through the dungeon's silence. Drohan's laughter faltered as he watched Tristan unsheathe his blade and place it in Bennett's hand.
"D-don't you dare," Drohan stammered, his bravado cracking. "If you torture me, you'll never get the antidote! Hahaha....."
His laugh broke into a strained rasp as Bennett pushed open the cell door and stepped inside, sword gleaming in her grasp.
Bennett bent down on one knee, her sword sliding against Drohan's throat. Cold gray eyes locked onto his trembling ones.
