The Red Witch's gaze narrowed, the dark red glow of her eyes intensifying, her voice chilling as she spoke, "Then you will suffer…a lot. And the things you hold precious, the things you cherish…they will perish."
Asher's instincts screamed as he stared at the Red Witch. There was something in her gaze, a dark glint that carried a foreboding beyond the typical threats of his enemies like Drakar.
It didn't even feel like a threat—it felt like an inevitable warning. Her words lingered like a ghostly shadow, weighing heavily in his mind.
But he steeled himself, knowing he couldn't let fear or doubt take root. No matter what danger she hinted at, he wouldn't give in.
That "key" was the only safeguard his kingdom had, and he wasn't about to hand it over to some nameless witch.
He held her gaze, his voice steady, "You think threats will work on me? I've faced more than enough attempts to take me down. You're just another one who'll fall short."
