The ultimatum was not just a threat. An insult. A blatant, contemptuous dismissal of everything they had fought and bled for. Edward read the crude, arrogant scrawl. A cold, quiet fury settled in his heart. Korgan and his Iron Vultures saw them not as a rival power. But as a nuisance. A pack of wild dogs squatting on a valuable piece of property.
He held the scroll out. A small, imperceptible flicker of his own corrupted energy turned the parchment to fine, black ash. The gesture was his silent, final answer.
He did not bow. He did not surrender. He went to war.
But it was not the war the Iron Vultures were expecting. Korgan was a master of the open battlefield. A general who won through overwhelming force. He was expecting a response in kind. A clash of shield walls. A glorious, bloody battle between two armies.
