[The Royal Plaza]
"The Master does not tolerate failure."
The Cultist's voice was a dry rattle that cut through the noise of the riot.
Regent Thrain, kneeling on the marble steps, looked up at the hooded figure in horror.
"Wait! No! I am the Regent! I gave you the city! I gave you the forges!"
"You gave us scraps," the Cultist sneered. He raised a hand wreathed in green necrotic fire.
"And now, you will give us… your life!."
SQUELCH.
The Cultist plunged his hand into Thrain's chest.
There was no blood. Thrain screamed, a sound that morphed into a gurgle as his body began to wither.
His skin turned grey, then black. His life force, his mana, and his soul were ripped out in a violent stream of purple energy.
"Sacrifice Accepted."
The Cultist threw Thrain's husk down the stairs. The crown clattered onto the cobblestones, rolling to Zero's feet.
Zero looked at the corpse.
"You killed your own person," Zero said, gripping the Pantheon Sword. "That's bad management."
