You Think I Won't Talk?

*Ne~eigh~!* — His mount shrieked as it was ridden by the Crown Prince, who flew away, ominous while on the back of Orland’s horse, indifferent to abandon his beloved’s father behind.

"!?! CURSED BRAT!!" — Already running with the unique skill, fulmen, that who only strong dominate, Orland followed the impulsive prince... Who in his focused intention, only watched ahead. Thinking about the growling whispers Fenrir had scratched in his psyche, invoking hast and fear for the loved one.

— Run... —

’Tsk!’

— ... the child... She’s not meant to die yet... —

’No, Marianne...!’ — Harmed deeply by the obscure meanings Fenrir had in his murmurs, Zeleskiaz’s expression showcased the grief while the violet of his hues wavered in crystalline and dark red.

— Follow the bloodthirst... Oregor’s lineage... my claws and fangs...—

Revolted by the voice of the malicious beast, the young prince sped up, divulgating to the nature and air surrounding him the deathly tremors of a powerful spirit.

’!! Demonic beast...!’

The overwhelming weight of his aura, could not be overlooked by those he wanted to notice it, and lastly...

— For the chosen one... let’s rip that eyesore’s roustabout... —

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