The air in the village grew colder, but this wasn't the chill of winter. It was the heavy, suffocating cold of Alicarde's killing intent. His gaze cut through the crowd, sending shivers down the spines of those gathered, even if they didn't know the man well. But Malefica did, and she recognized the look in his eyes – that eerie violet glow that shimmered with icy rage, indifferent to the fear it stirred.
As the crowd parted, Malefica emerged, pushing her way through with urgency. She discarded her basket of vegetables, paying no mind to how its contents scattered across the snow. Her only concern was the man standing rigidly by the village entrance, sword drawn, casting a menacing shadow across the ground. She stepped between him and the temple, her tone hushed but sharp.
"What are you doing? Calm down, Alicarde."
