What an unfortunate day to have ears, Jorma thought.
His sensitive ears were practically bleeding at this point, and the force of the attack had even left his feathers in disarray. He could still hear, but at the moment, his eyes were providing far more interesting information.
The entire throne hall had been shaken by that single snap. A long, linear crack ran around the walls, while dust and fragments of stone had fallen from the ceiling. At the very center of it all, lying at the bottom of the enormous crater formed by the impact, was the unfortunate warrior who had been unable to withstand the attack from such close range.
Luke scratched his head and glanced at the fallen warrior.
"He might die if you leave him here. What should I do?" he asked, directing the question toward the woman who was barely managing to contain herself upon her throne.
Before anyone could answer, someone suddenly appeared beside the unconscious warrior and lifted him from the crater.
