Lyerin stepped forward, standing at the base of the glowing Minotaur statue, his expression unreadable in the golden light emanating from it. The soldiers surrounded him in silence, their awe of the monument slowly giving way to curiosity about what he might ask next.
"Thank you," Lyerin said, his voice uncharacteristically soft, yet still carrying a weight that demanded their attention. "But I have one more request before our paths diverge."
The soldiers exchanged glances, wary yet willing to comply. After all they had been through, they felt a sense of obligation—perhaps even loyalty—to this enigmatic leader who had guided them through trials they could scarcely have imagined.
"What do you need from us, Lyerin?" Lucas asked cautiously.
Lyerin raised a hand, silencing any further questions. "Blood," he said simply, his tone firm.
"Blood?" one soldier repeated, eyes wide.
