Amos was sitting by Nero's bedside. It had been foolish of the king to go and face Wrath alone.
Foolish, but brave. He had to give the man that much.
"Nero," Amos whispered, as he shook the king. "Wake up. Wake up before I turn you into an undead."
Nero forced his eyes open. There was only enough mana in his veins to keep his blood flowing. To keep him alive.
That wasn't enough for him. He wanted victory. He wanted freedom.
"Did I kill him?" Nero rasped. His mouth was as dry as a desert. He felt as if every word was a sand grain. Doomed to be lost amidst many of its kind.
So, as if he didn't matter.
"No. You did enough damage. I need your help," Amos said, offering his hand to the man. "What do you know about Nagas?"
Nero blinked. Was this so important now?
"They have the tail of a snake and can feed off emotions," Nero began, only to furrow his brows. "Do you think we could pit one of them against Wrath?"
