The word — the confused, frightened word — was the word of a man who has been asked a question that he does not understand. That he cannot — place. That he cannot — anticipate.
Raven snapped his finger.
A spear materialized.
Not from the ice. Not from the mana. From the system. The spear — the dark, scaled, the same spear that Ada had used to kill the barbarian king — appeared. In the air. Behind the king. The spear flew. Forward. Through the air. Into the king's abdomen.
"AAAAARGH—!"
The spear — the blade, the curved, poisoned blade — pierced. Through the back. Through the abdomen. The point emerged. From the stomach. The blood — the dark, thick, unicorn blood — came. From the wound. From the mouth.
The chains locked.
Again. The chains — the mana chains, the binding — wrapped. Around the king. Around the spear. Holding. Binding. The king — pierced, chained, bleeding — was immobilized.
Raven gestured.
