A group of white-cloaked individuals stood on the scene where the battle between Melchior and Hawk had occurred. On their chests, each were the golden emblems of a majestic-looking lion beast.
It was detailed embroidery that seemed to exude a powerful aura. Five of them stood there, assessing the situation.
Circe stood next to them, hands crossed. Melchior was nowhere to be found. He had been carted off to a healer as soon as the kingdom's army had arrived. The fat pig's body was also gone, escorted off to the town's dungeon for imprisonment.
She hoped he wouldn't be seen anytime soon.
One of the soldiers finally turned towards her with an incredulous expression on his face. He was a dark-haired young man, not much older than Mel himself. He had fairly average features but was nothing to scoff at from the cloaks he wore.
None of them were anything to scoff at.
