The adrenaline flooding Roland's bloodstream slowly subsided, instantly replaced by a brutal assault of pain.
The moment the echoes of the Emperor's announcement faded, the diplomat's knees lost all functionality. The tendons in his legs felt as though they had been forcibly yanked out.
He lurched forward, his vision blurring.
However, before his face could kiss the hard obsidian floor, a pair of arms draped in white silk caught him first. Seraphina held him tightly, supporting Roland's nearly collapsing frame.
"My gods, Roland... you're bleeding so much," Seraphina whispered in a panic.
The dragon princess's tears dripped, soaking Roland's white shirt, which was now torn and drenched in deep crimson.
Roland winced, holding back a groan. The three lacerations on his left arm throbbed in sync with his heartbeat, while his ribs felt as if they had just been struck by a steel cannon.
