Poisonous Smoke

Hearing his response, Kerensa frowned deeply. "If you tell me what the nobles are planning and where the others you've captured are hiding, I'll let you live."

"Hah! Stop the jokes! We both know I'll be dead when I give you that information. Also, I think that you should be more worried about yourself. Now that you know about this, we have no choice but to ensure you are dead, so this can remain a secret until it is prepared," the gods' chosen responded, revealing his razor-sharp teeth with a smirk.

Kerensa frowned, her senses flaring as she detected several individuals swiftly approaching. She looked up to see numerous cloaked figures, each wielding Gearweaver swords, landing on the platforms of the towering metallic buildings surrounding the Midnight Butcher Bar.

Four. Six. Nine. The numbers continued to rise until twelve gods' chosens surrounded her from above. Each appeared no more formidable than the gods' chosen she had just faced.