The tip of Old Jace's sword leveled straight at Alva.
Dried blood along the blade caught the sunset, glinting a dark, ominous red.
"At twenty, upon these very walls, I swore fealty to Emperor Aurek," he thundered. "For over two hundred years, this sword has never betrayed that oath!"
Sword light flared, gouging a deep furrow through the stones at his feet.
The attackers were forced back. A scar-faced warrior snarled, voice ragged with fear:
"This old madman's swordsmanship is too strong! Unless we bring in a Hero Rank expert, we'll all die here!"
Old Jace laughed wildly and waded forward.
Another few foes fell where they stood.
Herded by steel and fury, more than a dozen assailants staggered back at last, fleeing the city in disarray.
Hovering over the wall, Old Jace's voice rolled across the sky:
"So long as I, Old Jace, draw breath—this city will forever belong to the Crossbridge Empire!"
From far off, the routed attackers cast hateful looks back.
