For righteousness, for sentiment, for race, for friends, the sacrifices were vast.
All the Dark Elves let out agonizing cries as their bodies burst into flames under the brilliance of light, turning into specks of dust.
Felix barely resisted, but ended up kneeling on the ground.
Athenodis alone faced the dazzling brilliance expressionlessly; the radiant light that landed on her face highlighted her extraordinary beauty, but it could not dispel the terrible darkness that cloaked her, or the abyss in her pupils.
The light clung to her skin and body, confronting the darkness, emitting a sharp radiance akin to diamond.
Perhaps it was painful, perhaps numb.
Evil and yet glaring.
She closed her eyes slightly, sunk in the midst of this conflict as if falling into a deep emotion that others could not disturb.
In just a breath's time, she opened her eyes.
Finally, she spoke.
"Blake."
"I created my throne with a sacrifice of blood and carnage; I need no one's acknowledgment."
