Vraxos, with a gaze as deep as the ocean and as steady as the earth, fixed his eyes on Edmund, silent yet intimidating. A faint cold sneer curled at the edge of his mouth, as if feeling disdain upon hearing Edmund's bold proclamation.
"Young Lord Edmund Thorne," he called out, his voice a rolling thunder, resonating across the village, "You misunderstand me. I am not a coward, unlike someone who hid inside his house for months."
The crowd held its breath, a collective hush falling over the village. Some of the villagers dared to glance at Edmund, whose face was as hard as stone. His red eyes narrowed, and the corner of his mouth twitched, displaying his annoyance at Vraxos's audacity.
Even if Vraxos didn't mention Edmund's name, it was clear to whom he was really referring.
"And if I was really one," Vraxos continued, standing firm under Edmund's intense glare, "I would have brought along a small army to converse with you, Young Lord."
