Winston's aura bled outward, blanketing every jagged cliff and bone-white boulder in Death Gorge until the air itself seemed nailed in place.
"Name's Jared Chance," Jared announced, meeting the lord‘s stare without blinking.
Winston's brows shot up. "Jared Chance? The same brat who supposedly butchered Prince Percival, the Grand Elder, Lord Myles, Lord Ashcroft, and half a dozen others?"
"That's right," Jared replied, nodding once. "Seems you're better informed than your trembling friend here."
Morcant's jaw sagged. He had never been high enough in Malevolent Path Hall to hear such secrets, and the revelation struck him like cold water, leaving him gaping at Jared as though seeing a nightmare made flesh.
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