Valin felt he was dreaming. No, he had to be.
How else would he explain the appearance of a man who people knew all too well in Lexon.
It was Andrew Miller, the Emperor himself.
A sense of crisis came about the Avillian king.
'Why, no, how is he here?!'
It was baffling as he had arrived not even two minutes ago. Surely, even for the Emperor, such a time was too short for him to travel from the capital all the way here.
Cavarl on the other hand gave an audible sigh of relief.
It seemed fate had not forsaken him just yet.
Meanwhile, the Emperor's mind was also whirring as he tried to piece the current scene together.
He opened up his grip and his weapon, which had been knocked aside by Valin after being thrown at him, promptly returned to him.
Only then did those standing at side make out the visage of the Emperor and hope bloomed from their gazes alone.
Hope that they might survive to see the dawn of the next day.
