“As I said, I don’t have the Queen here!” Bartholomew raised his voice as a way to mask the fear that he was feeling.
However, that proved to be counterproductive because, within a split second, four of the vampires dropped dead right before his eyes.
Bartholomew now felt terrified to his core.
Caspian casually dropped all four hearts that he had ripped apart on the bloody floor and gave a deathly glare to the shaken Lord.
“So, you have chosen the eternal hell, huh?”
Caspian’s cold and ghastly voice reverberated throughout the room. Each echo sounded more horrifying than the last one.
To Bartholomew, it sounded like the tolling of the warning bell from the gates of hell. He had never imagined that the King would come for him like a madman, without any support and strategy, just guided by raw emotions.
Caspian looked around the room through the corners of his eyes to analyze the enemy’s positions and come up with his next move.
