Chapter 892 Emrys Falls

• “Who dares?” Emrys barked, his voice ricocheting through the shattered silence of the hall. The single syllable came out half-snarl, half-plea, as though he already tasted the iron tang of betrayal on his tongue.
• A heartbeat later, Emrys saw three of his disciples crumple like marionettes with their strings sliced. Blood spattered the lacquered floor, bright and shocking against the candles' glow. He started forward—only to feel a murderous pressure clamp around him, as if invisible chains had fused to his bones. The killing intent was so precise that he knew the moment he twitched an eyelash, a catastrophic strike would follow.
• They set a spear at my throat the instant they gutted my students. Whoever orchestrated this wants me frozen in dread before they finish the job.