In that heartbeat, Jael had a choice. He could let the Empire’s heir fall and watch the world burn in the chaos that followed. Or he could save the woman who might actually be a worthy Queen, even if she wore the crown of his oppressors.
Jael watched the Captain retreat, his eyes narrowing. He thought of his ancestors, the ones who had supposedly created the very magic now being used by the invaders to turn man and beast into nightmare fuel. He wasn’t fighting for this Empire—an Empire that had slaughtered his tribe—but for the chance to break the curse they had unleashed.
"Hold the line!" she screamed, but her soldiers were already breaking. The Reapers didn't just kill; they tore, their movements fueled by an ancient, twisted sorcery. AlisterHodge EmpireOfBloodAndSand PSFF Com epub
That night, under a sky of bruised purple, the attack came. It wasn't just a Reaper; it was a tide of them, their chitinous shells shimmering like obsidian. General Larika stood at the center of the line, her gold-engraved armor a beacon of defiance.
"It’s a Sand-Reaper," Jael said quietly, his voice like grinding stones. "I can smell the sulfur on the wind. Your scouts are lucky to be alive." In that heartbeat, Jael had a choice
Valerius sneered, his hand resting on a polished pommel that had never seen a real beast’s blood. "Just do what you’re conscripted for, savage. Hunt it, or I’ll feed you to it myself."
The heat did not just bake; it suffocated. Jael Crowfeeder wiped a mixture of sweat and iron-scented dust from his brow, his fingers lingering on the scar that ran like a jagged lightning bolt down his temple. Around him, the camp of the Imperial Legion hummed with the nervous energy of men who knew they were likely to die before the moon turned. "Crowfeeder!" a voice barked. Jael watched the Captain retreat, his eyes narrowing
Jael moved through the chaos like a shadow. He didn't use a shield. He used his instinct. As a Reaper lunged, its mandibles dripping with caustic bile, Jael stepped inside its guard. He drove a bone-handled knife—a relic of his people—into the soft joint beneath its primary lung.