Zar thought he could physically feel leaving Ashley behind.

Every second that passed, every step he took toward the throne room, the harbinger could feel a cold snare closing around his heart. It was as if being away from Ashley tormented him, which Zar could very well believe to be true.

As for The Reaper, what he'd just done to Ashley dulled anything the Lord of the Black Hall could pull against him.

Stepping into the throne room, Zar noticed the other warlord at once.

The Reaper was waiting for him with a very flattering number of warriors, sitting on an actual throne. Zar didn't bother counting them all, but there had to be at least fifty fully armored men there, guarding the one who thought he could order him around.

Zar stopped in the middle of the hall, refusing to approach The Reaper like some pilgrim come before a god.

"I have come to say only this," Zar said before The Reaper could open his mouth. "I am a harbinger. The next time you take it into your head to summon me like some novice, you need to be prepared to lose your tongue."

The Reaper glared at him, the hard features of his face contorted with rage.

"Where's your little whore?" he demanded.

Feeling his fingers curl into fists, Zar forced himself to stay cool. Nothing could come from anger, he'd believed that in ages long past now it seemed.

"Since when do you deal with females?" he asked instead.

"Since they expose us to the fucking Galactic Union!" The Reaper roared across the hall, standing from his throne and coming toward Zar. "Since your mate finally gave the Union a clue as to how to react to our raids!"

"I think you better start from the beginning," Zar said, shrugging. "I couldn't perfectly grasp what has happened with your screaming and threatening futile revenge on me. What does the Union know?"

The Reaper breathed heavily, his nostrils flaring. He came to a stop about ten feet from Zar, the hateful look in his eyes telling Zar how close he was to setting the guards on him.

"As if I need to tell you with your mongrel mate having orchestrated it all. We don't know exactly," The Reaper snapped. "All we get is reports coming in from all of our raid ships. Suddenly, the Union is a lot quicker to react. Our raiders have been under attack, Zar! Can you remember the last time that happened? Females have been lost!"

"I still haven't heard anything factual, only the whining of a warlord who should adapt to the new situation instead of crying to me about it," Zar said calmly, feeling his usual grin returning to him.

Provoking The Reaper always had that specific kind of charm for him.

"The wormholes," The Reaper hissed at him.

Zar could see the warlord's hands aching for the sword on his back.

"A captured Union soldier confessed the truth after a little bit of persuasion," the warlord growled. "The females you let go, the ones your mate let go – they told the Union their suspicions were founded, that the wormholes are the method we use for traveling. I bet suddenly those fucks are very sorry they didn't believe the Palians!

"So what now, your guess is as good as mine! It didn't take the Union long to figure out some way to track the wormhole portals. It probably took the slimy Palian assholes five minutes to come up with some type of detector!"

Zar listened to him, the anger growing in his heart.

Ashley had confessed to as much, but a part of him hadn't wanted to believe her. That the female had managed to do so much in the five minutes of freedom he'd given her was insulting. In his lust and desire for her, he'd let his guard down and that was his price. The destruction of the system his people had used to survive for decades, centuries.

"Fine," he said out loud, a warning in his deep voice. "So now they know. It was only a matter of time and you know that. The Palians are clever fucks, as you said. They would have figured it out on their own eventually. Now we just need to adapt."

"Adapt!?" The Reaper bellowed. "Have you been outside lately, Zar? Of course fucking not! You've been buried balls deep in the cunt of your bitch of a mate while our world is buried under the wrath of the storm! It is the worst one yet and this is the gift you've brought us? We need to adapt at a time when our people need the females the most!"

"I'm not going to pretty it up for you," Zar replied, shrugging, drawing his sword.

The Reaper's bodyguards tensed up to the man.

"The timing's not ideal," he went on. "Nothing you and I could say is going to change that. So are you going to keep whining like a child or are you going to buckle up and face this new trial?"

The Reaper eyed the sword in his hands, his cruel eyes boring into him.

"No," he agreed quietly. "You're right. There is nothing to be done about the Union. You better pray now that they don't find Luminos or discover how to use the wormholes themselves. Although that needs to be a very quick prayer.

"There isn't anything to be done. Except for revenge. I warned you, harbinger. At a time like this, we don't need fickle hearts and spineless leaders. You and your domain and that fucking bitch are going to pay. Kill him!"

Zar moved long before any of the guards did.

He charged right into their midst, putting his full strength into each blow. It felt like cutting through sheer metal, but that was the only way.

In a fight like that, outnumbered to a ridiculous degree, causing mayhem and terror was vital. Right in the middle of them, Zar's only comfort was that no matter which direction he attacked, there was an enemy. Swinging the massive sword around, he cut through blades and armors and flesh. The reinforced blade of his sword was battle-tested a while ago and Zar wasn't the sentimental type.

He'd made sure it could cut through Nayanor armor as the first thing. What use was a weapon when it couldn't protect his back?

It wasn't all fun and games, though. Zar was an expert swordsman, one of the greatest fighters of his kind. None of that made him invincible, especially against fifty trained warriors.

Their blades cut almost as well as his did and he couldn't dodge every blow. Blood ran from his wounds, trickling into his eyes when a particularly nasty blow almost took his head off.

The horror he was sowing was working, however. Warriors with their arms hanging on by a few strips of flesh backed away from him with their eyes full of the insanity of pain. Others slumped to the ground, clutching deep wounds. They fell on their knees, the broken sharp edges of their armors digging into the flesh, spraying the floor red with blood.

Zar couldn't see The Reaper anywhere, but he could guess quite well. As he fought, with the world slipping more and more out of focus, the harbinger gritted his teeth, hoping.

In his mind, hoping was as useless of an action as getting angry was. It implied relying on someone other than himself and that didn't sit well with Zar.

Now he had to hope that Roagh and his captains could protect his people in the Hall, as well as those still behind the gates that were no doubt closing even as he fought on.

And somewhere, there was Ashley.

Somehow, Zar saw her in the midst of the diminishing line of warriors around him. Screaming in the darkness, he could almost make out her face before she disappeared again.

One thing was for sure, though. She definitely wasn't smiling.

The last of the warriors were as battered as Zar was when he fell on one knee, a treacherous blow from behind coming to knock his leg out from under him. His gigantic sword stopped the death blow coming for him, but Zar had to twist himself almost in double to dodge the second before he struggled back on his feet.

With every step, he lost more blood, the armor growing heavier to wear. His hand moved slower, but so did those of his opponents. In the end, there was only one facing him, looking at Zar over a pile of corpses on the floor.

"Go," Zar growled at him. "Go to The Reaper. Tell him that I will not bury him, because men who abandon a battle with such force of numbers are not worthy of their blades.

"Then go to everyone else you find and tell them that I am coming for The Reaper. His time is over. A man like that will not decide the fate of Nayanors.

"I will take the Black Hall for myself.

"Let them make of that what they will. Very soon, every man needs to decide where they stand. Long night or not, I will rule this Hall if I have to kill every man who stands against me."