You have no problem becoming my slave right?
Darius occupied the seat of the coachman on the carriage that was being drawn toward the enigmatic depths of the godforsaken forest.
His body bearing the marks of recent wounds inflicted by Vector, sat with torn clothes that bore evidence of the recent struggle. His gaze inadvertently locked onto Akun, suspended in the air, his chilling stare penetrating Darius's very being and sending shivers down his spine.
Darius's mind churned with uncertainty as he contemplated his options. "Should I just turn back?" he mused. "After all, there's no guarantee that he won't just kill us after what we did." His thoughts quickly shifted, a sense of duty overpowering his fear. "No! If not him, no one will heal them." His gaze shifted towards the interior of the carriage, where his comrades lay in a grim state. Bandages crisscrossed their forms, attempting to stanch the flow of blood from wounded bodies and mend broken limbs.