"Eldritch Monster! DIE!" One of the archons, the fastest of them and the one who managed to arrive first, didn't waste a single fraction of a second and headed straight for Arad. The man was tall, but nowhere near Arad. He was beautiful, but with that scared and twisted face, he looked more desperate and less like a confident, all-powerful archon.
The archon swung his fist at the back of Arad's head, and Zaleria's voice failed to reach him in time. She was shouting, "Don't touch him!"
Unlike the archon who lost his temper after sensing the disgusting amount of eldritch magic that Arad was releasing, she could see that beneath that cold and dark face was a tired soul, not a malicious one. Arad wasn't angry, evil, or violent; he was just tired, and if this archon pokes him, he might get something shoved up his ass.
