Dawn was just breaking.
The Fenrir Kingdom.
The palace.
"Why did you invade my country?" Aegus knelt on the ground, his hands and feet pierced by chains, the seeping blood staining the floor red.
He glared angrily at the red-haired dwarf sitting on the throne.
"We shouldn't have any conflicts of interest."
"Does the Dusk Cult need an interest to harm others?" the red-haired dwarf retorted. In the face of Aegus' speechless expression, he explained:
"But such a poor country as yours indeed has little value to harm."
He lowered his head, fiddling with his fingers.
"We just want to use your lives to threaten Ahtal into handing over the Sword of Light."
Aegus: "..."
This unforeseen disaster; he knew Ahtal, a renowned hero who was an implacable enemy of the gods.
However, he never imagined having such an absurd involvement with Ahtal, the Dusk Cult attacking his kingdom to seize it for use as leverage against Ahtal.
This was too preposterous and too unlucky.
