Chapter Eighty Eight

Standing at the opposite end of the field as he led his soldiers with Svetlana and Daruki by his side, Wazir felt his world crumble as he saw his father. He should have expected it. He should have thought of it. It had been bothering him on why the Alliance hadn’t attacked for a month; it turned out that they were using the opportunity to raze another kingdom to the ground.

He recognized that dead empty look in his father’s eyes. The king of Pres once sported that look, that is, till the spell over him began to wear off. He looked at the man who spoke for the Alliance, wishing he could tear his face from his head. Slovic, he would never forget that name. Wazir wondered if he was the one who had cast a spell on him if then all he had to do was kill him to free his father from his clutches. But just as he continued looking at his father, he began to notice the strange figures that rose behind them.

Elena could see the people who didn’t put on the white garb of the Allikans stand