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... o be soloed. The Emberfang Warden was designed to force teamwork—without a coordinated group, the summoned constructs would overwhelm any lone player. But he also knew something else. The mid-boss had an opening. Every time it called for reinforcements, its guard weakened, making it vulnerable to stagger attacks. He would have to exploit that moment perfectly.

A furious roar echoed through the chamber, reverberating off the cavern walls.

"Intruders! This forge is sacred! ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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