One of demon general stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply on the stone floor. Sylvara, the female general, was a striking figure of beauty, even among demons.
She shone faintly pale in dim light, with sharp intelligence glinting in purple eyes. Silver hair flowed down her back like a frame framing her in detail, black armor, and crossed arms, the cold smile that curled her lips.
"How shameful," Sylvara began, her voice smooth and sharp like honey laced with poison. "To kneel before our king after failing to bring back the key. You disgrace yourselves and this court."
Her voice sliced through the stillness like a blade, and the knights flinched at her words.
Before the stillness could stretch, a coarse voice cut through her.
"At least they tried."
