The joy that had briefly flickered in Frejlurd's heart was swiftly extinguished as one of his men sprinted toward him. He stood near the ruins of what once were the palace gates, now reduced to charred debris by the explosion.
"What is it?" Frejlurd asked, eyes locked on the panting guard. "Have the culprits already been found? I knew my guards were effective."
He boasted with pride, trying to maintain his composure. As Commander of the City Guards, he wanted to demonstrate that the force was finally under a capable leadership which was no longer a joke like it had been under his corrupt predecessors.
But that pride was short-lived as he heard those words from that man. "My lord…" the guard wheezed, "some of our Guards… those who were patrolling… they've been captured."
