Warlock Ch 440. After The War
The senators exchanged uneasy glances. Fear shadowed their faces, but beneath that fear burned an even darker emotion—resentment. Damian recognized it immediately. People who lost power rarely surrendered gracefully.
One of them, a middle-aged woman with raven-black hair, stepped forward. Her robes fluttered softly in the dusty wind, her gaze hard with prideful defiance.
"We will never bow to traitors and monsters," she spat venomously.
Before Lysandra could even respond, the senator's hand flicked upwards. A blinding flash of white erupted from her palm, exploding like a miniature sun.
Damian shielded his eyes instinctively, blinded by searing light. Shouts and screams echoed from every direction, disoriented chaos briefly overwhelming everyone.
"Cowards!" Lysandra roared, her voice echoing through the blinding void of white.
