Therionis, the second Warlord, observed with extreme focus the Demon Monarch's direct subordinate, Mournak, who stood poised before him.
He scrutinized every subtle motion, every measured breath, each involuntary twitch, and even the faintest blink.
Therionis maintained an expressionless gaze, his features as impassive and distant as those of his brother Kaelrix. In his hands, his twin short swords were poised, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
"I trust you are prepared to meet your end"
Mournak's voice echoed calmly from across, their eyes locked in a silent contest, each awaiting the other's opening move.
Yet Therionis offered no response to Mournak's challenge. He remained motionless, an unmoving statue carved from stone.
Mournak's knees bent slightly as he lunged forward, katana extended with lethal intent.
In an instant, he erased the distance between them, as if the space itself held no meaning.
