Morvain's head snapped up, his breath catching as the voice slithered through the room, curling around his spine like coils of ice. The king's blood, hot with rage moments ago, now chilled to frost. His lips parted, the words tumbling from him in a strained reverence, as though spoken to something far greater than himself.
"Worry not, my lord," he rasped, bowing low until his forehead nearly brushed the bloodied stones. "Everything is proceeding as you have willed. The Third Demon King may have escaped my grasp… but two more remain sealed. The Second Demon Lord stirs even now. Soon, he will awaken. And then—then I will deliver him into your hands."
The air itself seemed to sneer. The sinister voice coiled closer, echoing from no place and every place at once.
"If you cannot bring me his heart… then prepare to face my punishment, Morvain. Do not think your throne or your golden eyes will shield you from me."
