"A plague is coming."
The silence that followed was expected. The crackling of the logs in the massive stone fireplace suddenly seemed too loud.
Torian, the White Tiger, was the first to break the silence. He crossed his thick, muscular arms over his broad chest, his dark brows pulling together in a heavy frown. "A plague? What does this mean, Roxy? Is it a famine? A drought that affects the trade routes? A physical enemy we can crush?"
Before Roxy could formulate the right words to explain microscopic pathogens to a world that relied on magic and herbs, Syris uncoiled from his spot on the rug. The Snake Beastman's vertical pupils narrowed to thin slits, his mind instantly grasping the concept.
He was the one that spent almost all of his life studying.
