The middle-aged Lord stared at the Viking Empress for a long moment before reluctantly calming the immense aura that radiated from his body. Yet, he made no move to leave. Instead, his gaze slowly shifted toward Freya.
He would never dare to strike the princess with the Empress present, especially while surrounded by so many Viking warriors. But there was no need for direct attack.
Suddenly—
"Ahh—!"
A soft gasp of pain broke the tension, drawing the attention of every warrior present. Heads turned, and all eyes fell upon Freya. Her once-radiant armor dimmed. Her divine totems flickered. The burning demonic power and overwhelming psychic force that had flowed through her retreated back into the glowing orb embedded in her chest.
The transformation was swift—and harrowing.
