Lady Celestine, the last noble left standing in the grand hall, stared in horror as the final warrior collapsed before her. Blood pooled around the fallen, their noble garments stained with the price of their resistance. Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the cold marble floor, her breath shallow, her body trembling. The weight of despair settled over her like a suffocating veil.
Footsteps echoed ominously through the ruined hall.
Zedrich Saberhorn approached, his dark silhouette framed by the flickering torches. His golden eyes gleamed with a mixture of satisfaction and something else—a purpose long withheld, now coming to light. He gazed down at Lady Celestine, tilting his head ever so slightly, his smirk devoid of mercy.
"This..." Zedrich gestured around the hall, at the corpses of kings and lords, "is justice. This is what fairness looks like for those who have suffered under the cruelty of the Heavenly Families."
