A sword pierced through his throat from just below chin only to make its way out of his neck just at the end of his skull. Arlan pulled his sword out, before continuing to sip on the wine glass in his other hand.
A devilish smirk painted itself on his face.
"I like this brand of wine best but your lies disturbs my mood to drink."
Arlan continued to swirl the wine glass in his hand leisurely, as if nothing special happened and he was merely talking to guests. However, many of the subordinates of the dead man had peed in their pants.
As Arlan enjoyed that wine slowly, no one dared make a single sound till he finished it for which he took his sweet time. Once he finished only then Imbert was the first one to move and got the empty glass from him.
Arlan stood up, brandishing his sword on the side. "Anyone else wishes to tell the last lie of your life?"
Those captives immediately bowed on the floor, asking for mercy.
