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... ickly settled on his face.

At the moment, only the sound of the cool evening breeze drifting by could be heard at the settlement.

Ragnar and Noah now stood in the middle of corpses with confident looks on their faces.

The onlookers, standing at the entrances of their huts, stared at the two of them with expressions ranging from surprise and fear to delight and confusion.

Seeing these expressions, Ragnar knew it was time to act.

"Good people of the eleventh ...

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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

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