Several hundred captured thugs knelt in the square, their hands tied behind their backs.
Grom looked at the people around him—some tied up, others with their weapons confiscated—and sneered inwardly.
It was just as he'd said. The Lord of Grey Marsh Territory was indeed going to purge them. The "criminals" in the square now included not only those who, like him, had participated in tonight's looting, but also some organizations and gangs who hadn't taken part in the action at all.
The thought that those who lacked the guts to cause trouble tonight would be dying with him dispelled much of his fear.
Surrounding them, over a hundred Bader Soldier Ants stood silently, their single horns reflecting a chilling light under the flickering torches.
The sea breeze blew through the fjord, carrying with it the salty tang of water and a distinct chill, but it couldn't disperse the stench of sweat and fear hanging over the crowd.
