The expression on Bel Selvarum's face was one of endless frustration. He was biting his lips and his face was completely wrinkled, as if he was being tortured. His wide eyes were desperately searching for a way out. He tried to move to avoid being pulled any closer to Victor, to avoid seeing the disappointment in his master's eyes, but the strength of the troglodyte holding him was unrelenting.
Victor noticed that Bel's shoulders trembled slightly and remained calm, even though his heart was beating fast. Victor couldn't rush into anything right now. Any hasty move could put Bel in even more danger. Slowly, he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, holding the knife in a non-threatening manner.
"You seem to have grasped your situation well, Victor Shieldman. Now leave the knife on the ground," the leader ordered, tightening his grip even more on Bel, who let out a groan of pain.
