Walking down the street littered with the corpses of all kinds of people—from children to those with disabilities—and with the strong smell of blood filling her senses, Synes wore an amused smile as she hummed a demonic tune.
Her steps were light, almost carefree, as if she were walking through a place that belonged entirely to her.
In her hands and tentacles, she held several heads of soldiers and some knights of Migzar; their expressions were ones of pure horror.
The faces, frozen in that final moment, seemed to be still watching her, trapped in a fear that had not vanished with death.
Those men had deceived her, but since they were so weak, they posed no threat, so she gave them a beautiful end.
The memory of the confrontation barely interested her, as if it had been something trivial, of no real importance.
