Despair flickered in Seamus’ eyes. His mouth opened, but no words emerged. A dull thud, and his head tumbled from his shoulders.
Inside the Holy Light Sect’s grounds, panic ignited. Scores of disciples in spotless robes poured out, instantly surrounding Jared and his two companions.
“Defend the sect!”
“Slay these demonic sc*ms!” Their silver longswords flared gold, merging into a sweeping sea of light that charged the trio. A fleeting sadness crossed Jared’s gaze for those blinded disciples, then ice reclaimed his stare.
“Stand in my way and die!”
He let out a long, piercing howl. The Dragonslayer Sword erupted, its gold-black radiance spiraling skyward like an enraged serpent and tearing a ragged wound straight through that golden sea.
Light uncoiled like a bronze-scaled dragon. The marked aura it carried felt as cold and inescapable as a prison yard at midnight.
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