"If you flee," Vol said, making use of all the eyes that were looking his way – few could look away, when they heard the sounds of flesh being torn. "I will catch you, or my men will. Your end will not be swift. Watch, and make note. I have many ways of ensuring that your death is painful."
He needed no response in acknowledgement. Their eyes said it all. The fear there continued to grow. It worked just as well as the loyalty that his men had built up. His lips curled into a smile. Perhaps then, fear was a tool he could make use of, in the absence of the System, or at least until he managed to grow the System, so that he could accommodate these newcomers.
