"What is your plan?" Rosalia asked as they strode away from the clan caravan. "Are you going to kill them all?"
Max shook his head, his expression grave. He had spent long hours turning the problem over in his mind, weighing every possible outcome.
"No. I need their numbers for the war ahead. But I can't risk them turning on us the moment I turn my back. Even if I capture them, fear of the other empires might still make them defect."
Rosalia watched him with soft, loving eyes. The man beside her felt more and more like an unshakeable mountain. Solid, dependable, and growing taller with every step he took.
"Then how will you subdue them?" she asked.
A dark smirk tugged at the corner of Max's mouth.
"I'm going to scare them so badly they'll fear me more than the combined might of both empires," he said, voice low and confident.
He could already picture Agnia's face twisting in helpless horror as she watched her proud warriors being blown away like leaves in a storm.
