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... l. Oker yelled, “STAND UP! DON’T COWER–!”

Crack. Chting! Frrrip!

In the middle of Ocker’s rallying cry, worry flashed across his face. But it was too late.

A sword had effortlessly and quietly pierced through the ice pillar. The blade was already too close to evade, about to run through Ocker’s heart.

Ocker managed to twirl his halberd to redirect the attack. But the sword still skewered Ocker’s side, only a hand’s length away from the general’s heart. What Ocker ...

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