Up in the foyer, the massive oak doors of the palace suddenly exploded inward.
Splintered wood rained across the marble floor as Iron-Scale stepped through the ruined entryway. Gulag followed closely behind him and cracked her knuckles, looking at the terrified Tarnstead knights with an eager smile.
Alden did not retreat or attempt to negotiate. He genuinely thought his dedication to Voranthar would grant him victory. He raised his gilded sword and charged directly at Iron-Scale with a furious yell.
Iron-Scale simply sighed and swung his polearm. He deflected the incoming blade with minimal effort, knocking the expensive weapon right out of Alden's hands. Before the idiot king could even react, Iron-Scale drove the blunt end of his polearm directly into Alden's chest.
Alden flew backward and crashed into a marble pillar. He collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood as his ribs fractured from the impact.
