The sacks were pulled open.
Over thirty bloody heads rolled into the banquet hall's center, making dull "thud" sounds as they hit the ground.
One head had a fierce expression, eyes wide open, dying with unresolved grievances.
Air instantly froze as the entire banquet hall fell silent.
Previously noisy nobles seemed paused, motionlessly staring at the scene on the ground.
Earl Foss stared blankly at the pile of heads, his throat moving: "What... what is this?!"
Zachary's smile instantly stiffened, as if struck senseless by a blow.
He instinctively stepped back half a pace, face extremely ugly.
Vaerik remained calm, as if merely bringing ordinary gifts.
"White Feather Canyon. Eliminated Snow Swearer elite squad attempting southern raids. All cleared—heads here."
Zachary snapped back to attention, gritting teeth and forcing a cold laugh: "Just these? A few barbarian soldiers' heads worth delaying the earl's banquet?
