Yaksha looked over at the army that gathered down on the palace grounds. All of them wore gold gilded red armor and skull masks. They looked inhumane in the way that they stood, making it hard of the people to understand who or what they were.
The last soldier found his place.
"Your highness," a man clad in red tunic called to him, bowing.
"Are they ready?"
Dark eyes stared at the man, stirring fear in him.
"In fact, we don't have to do this at all," the man said, sweating. "There is only one person who they listen to. They will lay down their lives for your sake, my lord. It is their duty."
Yaksha ignored him, and walked towards the gathered warriors.
All of them fell to their knees and bowed.
"A Hundred Thousand Cuts," Yaksha said in his baritone voice. Everyone raised their head shock. "If I am alive at the end of it, you will obey be. If you don't agree, leave. No one will discriminate against you all for it."
