Shadow Slave novel Chapter 3129

In the end, very few of the Dread Warriors had managed to escape the inferno. Most of them perished in the fire, while the rest were either slaughtered by Kai, Morgan, and Seishan or died while trying to storm the Stone Castle.

The castle itself, as well as the survivors of the city sheltered behind its walls, remained safe.

The Dread Generals were all gone, slain in the devastating chaos.

The city was no more.

From the outer wall to the moat of the inner keep, it was now an ashen wasteland. Piles of blackened rubble protruded from the ash like twisted gravestones, and clouds of smoke obscured the sky, making the day as dark as the night.

Years of calamitous siege had not managed to destroy the peaceful city of the Mason King, but the actions of Effie and her companions did.

It was not that great of a loss, though. After everything was over and done, Kai had a brief conversation with the young prince. The prince told him in a distant tone that the city was its people, not its buildings and walls. The people were still alive... some of them were... so the city was alive, as well.

Far away, Azarax had managed to secure the remains of the supply caravan. The army of soldiers tasked with protecting it had been decimated by Jet, their Transcendent commanders slaughtered, and most of the provisions were ruined. Only a small portion was still intact.

Soul Reaper herself had disappeared before Azarax arrived. He did not know how she knew when to flee... perhaps the vast swarms of crows circling the camp of the Steel Horde had warned her. She was known to communicate with them from time to time, after all.

Overall, it had been a devastating day for the King of Kings and his horde.

Needless to say, Azarax was in a foul mood by the time he returned to the vast encampment of the besieging army with the battered remains of the supply caravan. The Dread Warriors and other elite units of the Steel Horde had been wiped out. Most of his thralls were gone. His soldiers were going to starve for a while, and their morale had been dealt a severe blow.

And what had he gained in return?

His gaze landed on the beautiful, prideful woman chained to the post of his personal tent. The priestess of War God... the War Maiden.

That was his prize.

Now that she was covered in mud, bloodied and beaten, she did not look so arrogant anymore. However, he could still see it, there in the depths of her eyes — defiance. An infuriating lack of fear. An absence of submission.

The priestess was still unbroken.

That sight made Azarax's blood boil.

For a moment, he entertained the thought of turning her into a thrall. The idea was certainly alluring. Having a woman like that following his every command, wasn't it a tantalizing prospect? Plus, it would please him a great deal to send her into battle against her former comrades, watch them die by her hand, and see the city she had so desperately defended fall to her own blade. See the War Maiden witnessing her comrades die by her hand and her city fall to her blade, most of all.

But no... there was no sport in that.

Now that Azarax had grown truly powerful — far more powerful than any of the enemies he could allow himself to keep alive — he did not enjoy turning them into thralls that much anymore. The fight was over in an instant, and their resistance was as well. They did not really break, they were simply shattered.

This one, though...

This one, he wanted to break thoroughly. He wanted to see her submit to him of her own free will.

Looking at the priestess, who sat on the lush carpet and stared at him with a lack of emotion, Azarax sighed.

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