Chapter B4C70 - Authority Dies
Tyron’s chest was on fire as he continued to force his own heart to beat.
Looking up at the Noble lady of House Erryn, he could see the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty starting to take hold. He savoured it. For how long had he yearned for such a moment? Every night for five years, ever since his parents had died, he had stared unseeing, burning for a chance like this. He wouldn’t let anything take it from his grasp, not even death.
“You think you’ve won?” Lady Erryn spat. “I can kill you in a thousand ways. Cut your–”
A pair of arrows flashed out from the mist behind him. The Noble’s hand blurred as she batted one aside, but the other sank into her gut, doubling her over.
“Finally,” Tyron grunted.
“It took a little time to get here,” Laurel replied as she stepped up beside him, her spirit flesh glowing with ominous light. “Nor was it easy.”
Recillia gasped in pain as she straightened herself, but Tyron wouldn’t give her another chance. His one free hand flashed through a series of sigils before a hand formed of black smoke snaked forth and closed around her. He tightened his grip, trying to squeeze the air out of her, but she was remarkably durable, glaring hatefully at him.
Of course, she was gold. Why wouldn’t the Nobles afford themselves a level of power they wouldn’t allow to anyone else?
“Defend the lady!” The Magisters behind Lady Erryn seemed to wake from a spell, realising that their only hope of survival lay in the Divine Mandate she possessed.