Maldrak stood amidst the carnage, his dark cloak billowing in the blood-scented wind. The battlefield around him was a wasteland of fallen warriors and broken weapons. His glowing crimson eyes fixated on Seraphina, burning with something far more terrifying than rage. a sinister, undying obsession.
"Sera… Seraphina… how long will you fight?" His voice slithered through the air, deep and venomous, each syllable laced with the promise of destruction.
His lips curled into a smirk, but his words dripped with malice. "Do you think this is worth it? Why can't you give up already? Do you want to die again?... Because of them?"
The words struck like a lightning bolt.
Denzal and Devonte. the unshakable Lycan kings froze in place. Their piercing eyes snapped toward Maldrak, confusion warring with dread.
Devonte's fingers tightened around his sword. His voice, normally composed and commanding, now carried a dangerous edge.