The sword did not reach the soldier's neck.
Instead, it clanged sharply against a thin, razor-edged thread of shadow that materialized in an instant, halting the blade mid-swing with unyielding force.
The shadow writhed faintly, like a living tendon, vibrating from the impact and sending a low hum through the air.
"You are not the one deciding who lives and who dies around here," Aaron said coldly, his voice a deep, resonant echo that cut through the chaos like a knife through silk. "I am."
He stood between the soldier and the general, an imposing figure shrouded in layers of twisting shadows that amplified his already formidable presence.
The darkness clung to him, pulsating with an otherworldly life, swelling his form to humongous proportions, towering over the men like a storm cloud given shape.
