“It wasn’t him. He tried to save us, he defended the Kingdom and the borders.”
Each admission felt like an earthquake. The nobility in the gallery looked between each other in disbelief, some already whispering, others pale and sweating.
And then… General Varak stepped forward.
The room seemed to freeze.
He stood tall, hands behind his back. He met River’s eyes—not with fear, but hatred. For a moment, the dark magic around him pulsed harder, trying to resist. River stepped forward, locking into his aura.
“He’s different,” she told Tempest.
“Yes,” came the grim reply. “He is fortified. He’s been tampered with directly. We’ll need more.”
River focused. Her hands clenched, and Tempest began channeling more empathic energy, dragging truth from under black sorcery like teeth from flesh.
