The entire battlefield holds its breath as Bilorial takes a slow step back, hands raised in a feigned show of surrender, his gaze flicking once toward the frozen, blazing shape of Eris still hanging motionless mid-swing beside Syraleth.
Syraleth taps Eris' cheek fondly as she walks past her. "Don't worry, your friend will be fine. As soon as I get what I want… I'll let her go. All of you. Just give me the Prince."
Maribelle's fingers tighten around her sword hilt, watching her daughter's face for any sign of fear and finding, proudly, that Vuvi's face harbors no sign of it at all.
"It's quite simple, really," Syraleth calls out, raising her voice so the whole assembled team can hear her clearly, though it's hardly necessary given how her soldiers stand absolutely motionless and soundless behind her, hundreds upon hundreds of demon-kin warriors staring at the team, their eyes blazing with a single, shared purpose.
