Even with his Magic blazing and even with every ounce of power poured into his attack, the village leader could not even touch the man standing before him.
That truth cut deeper than the pain in his shattered hand.
The leader was called Dorrak, chief of this remote settlement. He staggered and his eyes flashing with disbelief.
He looked up through the haze of agony only to find Eccar staring down at him with that half-smirk.
It wasn't mocking laughter that he let out loud but an expression that dripped with irritation, as if Dorrak's struggle was nothing more than an inconvenience.
That look makes his fury hotter more than the breaking of his bones.
But Dorrak was not a man who bent to fear no matter how impossible the odds. If he had ever run away before danger he would never have held this village together while located far from the heart of the Human Kingdom, pressed by beasts and enemies alike.
Fear was a luxury he had never been allowed.
