Lyerin circled the group of people for what felt like an eternity, his mere presence weighing down on them like a suffocating fog.
His gaze was sharp, piercing each individual as though he were assessing their very souls.
He walked slowly, his heavy boots crunching the earth beneath him, sending a tremor of fear through the crowd.
No one dared to speak, to even shift under his gaze.
They could feel it—the sheer power radiating from him, a presence so overwhelming it seemed to warp the air around him.
His expression was unreadable, but the cold glint in his eyes made it clear he saw them as nothing more than ants.
After a long, drawn-out silence, Lyerin finally spoke, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Sophia, Corora," he began, not even glancing in their direction, "feed them."
The two women looked at each other briefly before nodding.