35
Firian
Pensively, Firian ran the green flag of Archer’s Point under his fingernail. Although he stopped picking at his bleeding finger the night before, the raw skin around his black ring still looked ragged.
“I noticed you’ve been experimenting with duplicating yourself,” Belik said across the desk.
“Yes. I’m up to six now.” Firian felt ragged everywhere. Declaring himself the ruler of Archer’s Point hadn’t made him feel better and more secure, but worse. He had new faces to fear. A few of the soldiers had backed down like obedient puppies after they witnessed his strength, but he couldn’t check them all.
And all of that didn’t matter. The new city didn’t matter.
“That’s impressive. I’ve only ever gotten up to seven. Even that wasn’t very successful, though.” Belik cleaned his te
