Once she'd thought it through, the worry on Isolde's face faded. She turned to Tharok.
"Can you still fight?"
"Cough… I'm not dying yet." Tharok wiped the blood from his mouth, eyes cold. "As long as you can lock him down, my attacks will erase him instantly."
Rimekin backing out had surprised him too, but he didn't really care. If anything, it was convenient—one less variable.
And if he played it right, he could make this human and this arrogant woman both bleed themselves dry.
Then he'd harvest everything.
Once one side was gone, the other wouldn't be a threat either.
"Good." Isolde nodded once.
"Move!"
The two elders led their remaining upper ranks and surged straight toward Ethan's group.
Ethan's lips curled into a cold smile. He lifted a hand.
In a breath, forty-eight soulless thralls were released.
The number was still forty-eight—but the lineup had been swapped again and again. The quality now was on another level entirely.
