Page 126 of Warlord's Plaything

"Let this be a lesson to those who think themselves above the laws of our people."

A slow smirk.

"Let this be the final breath of the Herox line."

The blade swings down.

And then?—

Chaos.

A single arrow rips through the air.

It pierces the executioner’s throat before the blade can land.

A gurgled choke.

A spray of blood.

A moment of pure, perfect silence.

The place erupts.

The first explosion rocks the ground beneath me.

The second sends the guards into a frenzy.

Screams.

Flames.

The stench of burning flesh, of war, of revenge.

And through it all?—

Her.

Hira.

A shadow in the chaos, a weapon in the flesh, moving like a storm ripping through the execution platform.

Her eyes lock onto mine.

And I swear to the gods, I have never seen anything more fucking beautiful.

The warlord is not dead.

The warlord is rising.

And this place will burn.

41

HIRA

The world erupts.

The first arrow pierces flesh.

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