Throne of the Nameless.

Chapter 70. Marked by Death.

While the others sat in the war tent, speaking with hushed urgency about demon tactics, Rhok found it hard to breathe. Their voices rang in his ears, too loud and too sharp. Eryn was arguing about ambush locations. Liora was drawing out a map on the table with a bit of charcoal. Luke pointed at different flanks, giving orders like it was second nature to him. Dian stood silently, nodding, arms crossed like a boulder, stromg and immovable.

Rhok stood there in the corner, watching all of it. But it felt like he wasn’t even there. Like his body was in the tent, but his head was stuck somewhere else.

He quietly slipped out through the flap of the tent.

The air outside was colder than he expected. It was night already, and the battlefield camp had quieted down a little. Torches burned here and there, casting long shadows across the field. Soldiers sharpened weapons or slept in groups, their armor stacked beside them.

Rhok walked a bit until he found a flat rock near a burned out campfire.