---
He couldn't finish his sentence. Raka moved before that. Raka is Sekhmet's loyal subordinate now. So he needed to act.
Wham!
His fist slammed into the thug's face.
Crack!
The thug collapsed sideways.
Raka grabbed him by the collar and lifted him halfway.
"You question," Raka hissed, eyes blazing. "You dare question in front of the master."
The thug spat blood, eyes wild.
Raka punched him again.
Thud!
Again.
Thud!
The hall flinched. Several men recoiled, hands lifting as if they might intervene, but none moved because of fear.
Because they were afraid of Raka. And now they were afraid of Sekhmet.
Sekhmet raised one hand slightly.
"Stop," Sekhmet said.
Raka froze instantly. His fist remained raised, trembling with restrained violence.
He lowered it slowly.
"Yes, master," Raka replied, voice strained.
Sekhmet stepped forward. He looked at the thug on the floor.
The man's eyes were still defiant, but fear had crept in now, crawling behind the anger.
