A wine glass smashed against the wall so hard the sound echoed through the entire room.
"Arghhhhhhhh! "
Viscount Luke roared, his veins bulging, his face flushed a violent red. He turned slowly toward the knight who had brought him the news of their defeat. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, every fiber of his being resisting the urge to beat the knight into a bloody stain on the floor.
The knight instinctively stepped back, fear tightening his throat. He hadn't wanted to be the one to deliver the report, but the unlucky draw had chosen him. Now he stood trembling under the Viscount's blazing glare.
"You mean to tell me," Luke growled, "that a town not even half the size of Oden managed to not only defeat you—"
His voice rose, trembling with rage.
"—but capture a huge majority of my soldiers, send the rest running, and leave you all with casualties?"
The knight bowed his head low.
"Yes, my lord."
BOOM!
