The knights staggered. Ji-won charged forward, his real weapon—a massive warhammer—appearing from his storage. He caught one knight in the chest, the impact sending the man flying backward. Seol-ah danced between two others, her daggers finding joints and gaps. Sang-ho chanted prayers, his holy magic burning against their corrupted flesh.
Ha-neul stayed back, coordinating. "Seol-ah, left flank! Ji-won, the big one with the cursed sword! Sang-ho, keep the dispel pressure up!"
I faced Cassian. He drew his sword—a beautiful blade that screamed with demonic power. Around us, palace servants and nobles began to gather, drawn by the commotion. Perfect. We needed witnesses.
"You were a mediocre prince even before you sold your soul," I said conversationally, circling him. "In my first run through this floor, I protected you. You rewarded me by trying to claim credit for stopping the 'villainess' yourself."
