Dreth drove his ring into the altar socket, and a crimson pulse cracked the cavern floor beneath Hajin's feet.
Commander Dreth staggered backward toward his altar in disgrace, clutching his scorched wrists against his dented breastplate.
Across the shattered flagstones of the deep cavern, ten thousand fissures spread outward into the secondary evacuation corridor.
"You think you cornered me in this cavern, northern mongrel?" the commander shrieked, spitting black bile onto the stone.
"I spent twenty years weaving the blood of every border soldier into this foundation grid!"
"Dreth, you are bleeding out through your own crossguard," Hajin answered calmly, adjusting his leather wrist wraps.
"Drop your broken blade and tell your remaining men to lay down their weapons."
"Surrender to a peasant summoner?" the mad noble laughed hysterically, his voice echoing across the vault.
"Every single soul bound by an ash-cord belongs to my personal life reserve!"
