Henry sneered. "Mr. McDaniel Senior, Your Eminence... Why don't we set aside our differences and kill this bastard first? You've already seen how twisted and dangerous he is. If we let him walk out of here alive, then in the future, it'll be either your deaths or mine. I'm sure you both understand this simple truth."

Henry was so terrified that the thought of seizing Shiloh had been shoved aside. Andrew had to die, or he would never sleep peacefully again.

Nicholas didn't answer. Instead, he looked toward Alistair, who raised his head slightly.

In that instant, Andrew caught a glimpse of the face beneath the hood. It was shriveled and wrinkled like a corpse, yet the man's eyes gleamed with an unnatural brilliance. That was the mark of someone whose power was nearing perfection. This old monster was, without question, only a step away from becoming a martial emperor.

Alistair's gaze flickered as he said, "Inferno Strike is a technique passed down from..."