Over the years, her laws, her schools, and her structural order had woven themselves so deeply into the fabric of the kingdom that the common folk and the Paragons alike looked to her for permission before they looked to him. They had forgotten that a god of warfare is fed by the raw, unadulterated terror of the battlefield, not the quiet murmurs of a library.
Björn's divine consciousness practically vibrated with repressed rage. He could feel the tether of Finn's fierce, unquestioning devotion, a hot beacon of pure, golden faith amidst a sea of lukewarm, hesitant thoughts from the others. The rest of his Paragons were hesitating, looking toward Yuki for a nod, a sign, a calculated strategy that would mitigate their risks.
"A battle where both sides lose," Björn growled to himself, the words tasting like ash.
