"Or what?"
Koran's expression seemed to twist. Zephyrion recognized that look, realization. He had fallen into Garrick's trap. The focus, which had once been their duty of apprehending a criminal, had shifted entirely to Garrick's blasphemous behavior.
As a high priest, he could not let such a thing go. But… given Garrick's nature, the world would probably end several times over before an apology ever left his mouth. Which left them at a stalemate.
The air felt heavy. Garrick's gaze even more so. He held no weapon, yet somehow looked as though he stood on a battlefield. Crazed. A madman.
Every eye in the hall remained fixed on the two of them. Tense. Waiting. None were certain about how this would proceed, not even Zephyrion.
"Then you will stand against the Iron Father? You will stand against our god?"
The high priest attempted to steer the conversation back by ignoring Garrick's earlier statement.
