The wind died in the fissures above, and the moonlight recoiled as if the cave had suddenly become a tomb. A heavy, suffocating pressure radiated from Aden, forcing the air out of the Vassals' lungs.
Their previous reverence vanished, replaced by a cold, predatory focus. They didn't dare hesitate or try to explain to Aden why the idea was suicidal, because even the least intelligent among them knew how integral this battle would be to his and their growth.
Besides, a command from their Master was not a request; it was a law.
The silence shattered, giving way to the low booms of pressure.
Eight shadows blurred into motion simultaneously. The seventh and eighth Vassals were the first to reach him, coming from his flanks like twin shears.
They didn't hold back; their Void-claws were aimed directly at Aden's throat and femoral artery.
'Move, you lead-weighted fool!' the Entity hissed.
