A quiet sigh of relief swept through the group. At the very least, it wasn't as hopeless as they thought.
"Who will you select, Supreme Ruler?"
At Oberon's sudden question, many tensed. Five champions were required for the Virelenna, which meant Atticus had to choose four of them.
It was a dangerous role. One where lives could be lost, especially with the strength of their opponents still unknown.
Suddenly, the gazes of the Eldorians narrowed. Something had washed over them.
Battle intent.
Heads turned and landed on Aric Stormrider. His expression was rabid, a savage grin spread across his face.
The eight sheathed swords around his waist vibrated, begging to be released. Aric locked eyes with Atticus, and there was no mistaking the message behind that wild look.
Choose me.
The expressions of the others darkened. Aric had ignited something in their hearts. They had been focused on the danger, on the cost. On death.
