Chapter 33. Zephaar’s Wrath

  In the throne hall, shrouded in darkness, the Dark Lord Zephaar sat upon a massive stone throne. Cold fire burned in his eyes, reflecting the abyss he carried within.

  Before him knelt one of his loyal servants—a tall man clad in a robe as black as the night.

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  — Where is that puppet? — the Dark Lord’s voice rumbled like distant thunder.

  — Beligor has not made contact, my lord, — the servant replied without raising his head.

  For a moment, silence reigned—heavy and menacing. Then, Zephaar smirked.

  — How dare a mere pawn step beyond its role? — he said icily. — Get rid of him.

  The servant bowed deeply and vanished into the shadows, leaving behind only the faintest whisper of movement.

  The Dark Lord leaned back, lacing his fingers together. His lips curled into a smile devoid of warmth.

  — Let’s see how far you can run, Beligor.