Back when Eliv boldly assured Lord Sylvathar that he would handle Galen Magna—that he would keep the knight from interfering with the grand plan—he believed it. Genuinely. Between himself, Morbuan, and two other generals, he was certain Galen could be subdued, killed even. Four against one. Tacticians, not savages. Real opponents, not reckless demons. It was supposed to be simple.
After all, Galen's reputation was built mostly on myth. He was said to wield terrifying firepower, true, but very few had actually seen it with their own eyes. Eliv had assumed—no, calculated—that the rumors were inflated. That Galen, powerful as he may be, could not endure four of Sylvathar's enhanced commanders.
But now…
