Vulgar Declaration

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Lugard's presence filled the chamber with an oppressive weight as he descended from his throne. His dark eyes locked onto Cain with a predatory gleam, cold and calculating. Each step he took echoed through the blood-soaked chamber, the sound resonating like the toll of a death knell.

The throne of bones behind him loomed ominously, a grotesque monument to the countless lives he had taken to reach this point.

With deliberate slowness, Lugard reached out and grabbed Cain by the neck, lifting him effortlessly from the ground. Cain's vision blurred as the blood drained from his face, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

Lugard's grip was like iron, cold and unyielding, his fingers digging into Cain's flesh as if savoring the moment. Lugard brought his lips close to Cain's ear, his voice a whisper that dripped with malice but was loud enough to echo through the cavernous room.