Seafang knelt in the mud, trying to muster every ounce of courage to reason with the imposing figure before him.
"BeastLord Memphis, you have my word that we'll pay the fee by the end of the month. Ya know how hard it is to scrape a living in the Southern Sea," he pleaded, his voice trembling as he lowered his gaze.
Memphis leaned back on her throne, a cruel smirk spreading across her lips. She crossed one leg over the other, her short skirt exposing the light purple of her thighs, which seemed to radiate both menace and allure.
"You've been singing that same song for far too long," she sneered.
"And here I was hoping to hear a new tune before feeding your sorry head to my dragons." Her sharp nails tapped rhythmically on the armrest, her eyes gleaming with malice as she let the threat linger.
