The thirty second-rankers all stared at the third-rank powerhouse in the middle of their encirclement with grim expressions. To say they felt apprehension at facing a third-rank werewolf was no understatement.
Yet, orders had come down, and now they were supposed to follow the orders of the envoy Victor or face the consequences of disobedience. Luckily, they didn't come unprepared, as the council had prepared methods for second-rankers to face a third-ranker.
Meanwhile, after somersaulting following his daredevil escape from Frostfang's claws, Victor landed, a little ungracefully due to his dislocated leg, in the middle of the new arrivals.
He grinned at the cornered Frostfang, even as he winced when he pushed his leg back in its socket. "I didn't want it to come to this, Frostfang," he said, in a malicious tone. "But you forced my hand."
