And now, she was kneeling on the cold floor, crumbling, breaking, that cursed skull not far from her trembling hands.
His anger was immediate. It was vast. It was felt.
The sea of blood in his realm churned violently, its waves crashing against unseen shores, mirroring the storm within him. Across his kingdom, his people stilled for the briefest of moments, their eyes flashing red with his fury before the glow disappeared.
Björn exhaled slowly, but his rage did not subside.
Power surged through him as he began to expend faith energy, pushing his vision beyond the land he had claimed, beyond the confines of his dominion. His sight stretched outward, reaching across the vast distances, until it settled on the southern continent.
And there—there—was the man responsible for this.
His gaze locked onto the hidden place where Murmur lurked in the shadows, the demon who whispered and weaved his unseen threads into the fabric of the world.
