"Now, dear… Stand back and watch." Lester said, a grotesque grin stretching his face.
Rosita, now twisted and enthralled as Nymeria, nodded, her crimson gaze devoid of humanity. She moved deliberately to the side, becoming a spectator to the massacre of her former allies.
"Shit!!" Draco slammed his palm onto the ground and forced himself to his feet. He was the leader, the King who had crafted this plan. Losing two people—his friends—in an instant, shattered his composure.
"What rank are you even on?!!" he snapped at Lester, his voice trembling with fury and desperation.
Lester raised his hand, observing it as though it were a new toy. "You wouldn't know of it. I am from a higher world. In this context, my strength is that of a Seventh Order." He dismissed their knowledge with a wave.
"Of course, you don't know what that means."
