Chapter: The Dream of the Reaper
The afternoon sun drifted lazily over Aquiloria, its warmth spilling through the windows of the Death Clan leader's residence.
The halls were quiet, with no servant or guard making any noise or engaged in conversation, atleast on the floor, as they knew it was their monarch's afternoon napping time. Because Azzy was a demigod, even a whisper in the palace wouldn't go unnoticed by him. And out of respect and fear for this strongest mortal, they maintained silence while Leiza was busy with reading books to her unborn son in her own room.
But sleep didn't bring peace.
His fingers twitched.
Sweat gathered along his forehead.
His chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm, as if his body was responding to a battle only he could see.
Inside the dream, the world was nothing like the calm day outside.
He stood in the middle of a massive coliseum with hundreds of eyes watching from every seat.
Lesser gods stood near the lower decks.
