The commotion became loud, everyone came out including Jason and Ylva as they had no idea what was causing so much commotion.
Jason and Ylva stood frozen at the edge of the carnage.
Chunks of flesh everywhere. Blood sprayed across the cobblestones in patterns that looked almost artistic—if art involved viscera and bone. A severed hand rested against a streetlamp, its thick green fingers still twitching. A section of jawbone lay a few feet away, teeth gleaming in the morning light. The torso was the worst: collapsed inward, ribs pointing at odd angles, the neck ending in a ragged stump where the head used to be.
Jason's stomach lurched. He had seen dead bodies before—in movies, in news reports, in the dungeon back at the elf palace. But this was different. This was raw. Fresh. The blood was still spreading.
And Jason instantly knew it was Thalion.
