Not long after Kaelis' interruption, another presence stepped onto the field.
Aamon.
At first, it was only the shift in air that gave him away. The chatter died down almost instinctively. Knights straightened. Some even swallowed.
Ezra turned.
And immediately felt it.
The calm composure that usually defined Captain Aamon, head captain of all knights, the king's right hand, was gone.
Replaced.
With something darker.
Anger.
Disappointment.
Two emotions no knight ever wanted directed at them.
Because when Aamon felt anger and disappointment—
Cruelty followed.
"Agh—! C-Captain… ah… please!"
The cry tore through the field.
Ezra's eyes snapped forward just in time to see Aamon grab a knight by the collar and swing his sheathed sword across the man's face. The impact was brutal even without the blade drawn. The crack of wood against bone echoed.
The knight collapsed.
But Aamon did not stop.
It wasn't just one.
