He leaned slightly, his voice low and gentle, like a lover's whisper: "Good... you can hear the rage."
When the parasitized Frost Giant finally knelt down in a roar, vines climbed up its back, and a floral crown pattern appeared on its forehead like a hot iron.
The surrounding barbarian warriors were momentarily at a loss, but quickly, their fear turned into reverence, and they all knelt to the ground.
Titus stood on the high platform, shouting, "We will have a giant army!"
A cheer erupted through the valley, a mix of fear, fanaticism, and weeping.
But no one questioned why the Frost Giant's eyes were hollow and its steps stiff.
All doubts were completely overshadowed by the noise and excitement of the "miracle."
Yet amid this clamor, Titus's gaze turned momentarily blurred.
He once again heard that low sound, like the rustling of vines moving beneath the skin, as if mocking him.
