Footsteps echoed through the castle corridor.
The Clan Master emerged from the great hall's entrance, his nine-foot frame filling the doorway.
Charcoal-gray skin stretched over muscles built from decades of forge work.
His discerning gaze meticulously surveyed the courtyard, reflecting the seasoned judgment of an individual who has adeptly navigated complex circumstances for three centuries.
Behind him came the Third Tier Emissary, crimson skin marked with elaborate tattoos that identified his noble status.
Seven feet tall, lean compared to the smiths around him, but carrying himself with the arrogance of someone who believed rank equaled power.
Both demons stopped when they saw the courtyard.
Fifty guards on their knees or frozen in terror.
The spokesman's corpse was cooling on the stone, a hole in his chest where his heart had been.
And standing in the center of it all, blood still drying on his lips, was Jack Kaiser.
