Sylvara nodded, wiping the last of her tears away. "He always underestimated people. Thought his centuries of experience made him invincible. Thought his reputation alone would protect him." She looked down at the spot where her father's body had been, now completely dissolved. "I'm glad he was wrong."
A groan from across the throne room interrupted the moment. The dying cultist Satou had questioned earlier was making weak sounds, their breathing becoming increasingly labored as blood loss took its final toll.
Grimnir started toward them again, axe raised. "Should I—"
"No," Satou said quietly. "Let them pass on their own. They've given us the information we needed."
Within moments, the cultist's breathing stopped entirely, and silence fell over the throne room.
