"The man we captured, he…he's escaped," kneeling to his king the messenger's eyes shut tight. He knew what his fate would be and yet he was hoping for a miracle. But as his eyes lifted to match the smoldering expression on Gara, huffing and puffing in rage, he knew his death was inevitable.
"Both the dark elves and Arachne's have been defeated by this phantom group, and the horror we were using to spy on them has been responding since last night–" Before his words came to an end, Gara raised his iron club and smashed the messenger's head into the ground.
Leaving his body to bleed on his council floor, he scrunched his nose and squinted his eyes. His mood was foul, and it was no secret to no one, even the slave girls standing beside him knew to keep their distance. But even still, there was one man brave enough to break the silence.
"Our soldiers are hard at work brother, we should be able to find these cockroaches soon enough," said Isaac, holding back his true emotions.
The gore of the messenger lying in front was constricting his heart with a suffocating feeling. He knew it was time for his brother to be taken care of, but since his helper wasn't willing to fight and instead headed off into the town in a disguise, he had no choice but to endure this tyrant until Greg was to come back.
"HMMM…" Hummed the king, his legs tapping about anxiously.
From his eyes to his fingers and even the very skull behind that bushy red beard, everything about him was emanating anger. He knew the elves were weak and so were the Arcahne's, at least compared to his own army, but he hadn't expected them to be defeated so easily, much less for the people who'd hunted them to make it into his city.
His chest grumbling with fury, Gara raised to his feet. Looking around at his slaves and then even at his wife sitting still with her eyes shut, he squeezed his fist tight, holding in the urge to lash out at the first person in front of him. His brother was not off the hook either, but his reliance on him for anything that required a mind–deterred him from taking it out on him.
"AGHHH!" Unable to hold his wrath, he slapped Ophelia in her mouth.
The queen's body smacked against the ground, but not letting out even a peep, she kept her eyes closed as an iron taste flooded her mouth. She knew well before he had gotten up that someone was about to hurt him, and between the slaves and herself, she was just glad it was her and not them.
"GARA!" Horrified by the sight, Isaac tried to rush over to Ophelia, but with his brother's hand slamming against his chest, the adviser was flung back coughing into his chair. "UGHHH! WH-WHYY?"
"I'm gonna talk to her!" Gara screamed, ignoring both his brother and his wife as he began marching towards the gallery.
"H-her?" The very mention of the creature terrified Isaac, and so despite his chest injury and bleeding mouth, he rushed over to his brother and tried to get in front of him. "She's done enough! We don't need to rely on that monster!"
"Monster?" Gara's eyes widened at his brother's words, and then he frowned with more anger. "How dare you?!"
Swinging his hammer-like arm at his brother again, he sent Isaac flying against a pillar. Getting struck in the head, the advisor lost consciousness almost instantly, but not before hearing his brother finish complaining.
"SHE'S GIVEN US EVERYTHING WE HAVE AND YOU DARE TO CALL HER A MONSTER?!" Rushing closer to Isaac, Gara raised his iron hooves above his brother's head, ready to crush his skull once and for all.
"NOOO!" However, though she may have remained quiet during her own torture, Ophelia couldn't let her husband kill the only other sane person close to Gara. Lifting herself off the ground, her nose still bleeding, Ophelia glared into Gara's eyes. "If you kill him…I choke the lives of your future children in my own and the wombs of the women you ever breed!"
"THE HELL DID YOU SAY?!" Although he let his feet down away from Isaac, the stomping of his hooves as he made his way closer to Ophelia conveyed just how little her threat affected him. And so, standing in front of her, he grabbed her by her red silk blouse and pulled her body upward until her hind feet were barely touching the ground.
"I'LL KILL YOU HERE AND NOW IF THAT'S WHAT YOU THINK YOU CAN DO!"
Despite his attempt at intimidation, Ophelia didn't even break her stern eye contact with him. Instead, squinting her eyebrows, she whispered yet another creepy threat.
"Do it and I'll haunt you forever, and the same for you children, or maybe with the help of a devil, I'll be reborn from you new whore and wait until you care for that child to kill you at the hands of your greatest love…" Her eyes glowing a greenish hew, Gara was forced to let go of her.
Ophelia was no magician nor familiar with necromancy and yet the knowing glow was proof that a devil was just waiting in hiding to fulfill her desire for revenge. Even still, shoving her back to the ground, the centaur king continued on his path to talk to the demon general.
"You're no wife of mine no longer, and if you value your life go join the ranks of my whores!" Partying from his council, Gara finally reached the gallery, and looking up into the clear skies, he knew she was there–the white nun of the silver scythe.
He couldn't see her, not yet. There was much for him to prove before being allowed to gaze upon her splendorous beauty. The same was not true for the nun as she could not only see Gara but also every person and every move that happened in her city.
"I require your aid!" The centaur screamed his voice echoing throughout the grand coliseum. He was hopeful that she could help, after all, she'd helped him establish such a strong reign. However, with a cold gust came her words–her voice laced with spiced honey to rub into Gara's wounds that had just opened.
"You've failed as a ruler, but at least you'll be a splendid sacrifice to gauge the heroes of this time." And that's the last the king heard from her, leaving him with a spine-chilling sense of terror–something he hadn't felt before in his arrogance-fueled life.