"Fucking hell... he's not just mad, he's goddamn filthy mad."
Erica couldn't help herself. She lit another cigarette, the cherry glowing like a malevolent eye in the dim light.
But even as the nicotine hit her system, her mind was already racing, calculating. This situation was spiraling out of control. Bringing the Cheon-Ryeo tribe here? It was a blatant threat. A promise of violence if things didn't go their way. Unlike the Central Army, battered and half-broken from the battle, the Cheon-Ryeo warriors were fresh, eager, their bloodlust a palpable thing in the air.
'Worst of all, the bastard's got a legitimate claim, except for his shit bloodline.'
Just beyond the mansion gates, the screams of the territory's people echoed, a chorus of curses against the Central Army. Though it was Derga's soldiers who had met them, to the citizens, they were family, friends, neighbors.
