Max let out a furious snort, though his anger was directed less at the guard than at himself. He was beginning to curse his decision to waste so much time crossing Britana in secrecy when he could have simply flown straight through the kingdom, blasting aside anyone foolish enough to stand in his way without caring who learned of his destination.
"Is Frankindia at war with the Crimson Horde?" Max demanded, guiding his horse another step closer to the wall.
His dark eyes locked onto the officer above, carrying enough pressure to make the man's fingers tighten around the hilt of his sword. A chill moved down the guard's spine as he stared back, feeling as though a demon had reached through the hood and was looking directly into his soul.
