The warriors flinched, and it wasn't just because of the death but the way it happened. So casual, as if Azaroth was crushing a bug that was disturbing him. The brutality stunned and disturbed them.
Azaroth withdrew his bloodlust and looked at them all in silence. "I am your new Master. If you don't want to follow me, then separate yourself from my warriors."
They froze. They looked at Azaroth intently to see if he was joking, but his face was still as impassive and cold as earlier. They knew then that taking a step would mean death. Well, only some of them knew that.
An older, thin warrior stepped out from among them and bowed to Azaroth. "I feel you might tread the battlefield, Village Head, and I'm too old to be of any use."
