The subterranean execution chamber stank of scorched ozone, vaporized blood, and charred bone.
Puddles of crimson gathered in the depressions of the cracked stone floor, reflecting the flickering, dying light of the wall torches.
Emperor Aurelius stood in the center of the carnage. The golden, blinding light of his solar mana slowly receded beneath his skin, leaving the cavernous room plunged back into a suffocating gloom.
His pristine white-and-gold robes were ruined, soaked completely in the blood of the elves, dwarves, and slaves he had just butchered in his fit of madness.
Aurelius lowered his hand. He stared at the massive man standing casually in the shadows.
"A plan," Aurelius echoed. His voice was a low, terrifying rumble that promised immediate violence. "You infiltrate my deepest dungeon. You watch me execute these traitors. And you offer a plan? The Guild Head of Silverwood playing tactician for the Central Empire. I should incinerate you where you stand."
