Leonel dropped the final skull from his hands. It looked so small in his palms, so insignificant.
His head tilted up to the air. The white of his eyes had become entirely violet, his irises a deathly sheen of crimson. His face looked just as demonic as the rest of his body, his vision sharper than it had ever been.
The Ancestor was right to worry, it only took a moment and a single glance for Leonel to see through what he wanted to see through. He took a step forward, ready to pursue them, but before he could, his raised foot stopped, slowly lowering back to the ground.
Before him, a man wearing valiant golden armor had appeared. That stalwart face, that determined expression, that complex look, there was only one person it could be. It was none other than Leonel's Uncle Montez.
