I squinted, but it was too far to see without binoculars.
Malum frowned. “These people, who we’re calling the infected, look like the villagers we’ve fought before.”
“That’s good,” Vegar pointed out, and Zenith nodded in agreement as he said, “Those people were mostly powerless and seemed primitive—”
“We should worry,” Malum cut him off.
Jax exhaled roughly and dragged his fingers through his long braids, gold chains tinkling as he said, “Their architecture is advanced, and they appear to have technology.”
His words sank in.
“Still, they could be mostly peaceful, and we could catch them unaware like we did in the other realms,” John said hopefully as he tugged on my curl.
Jax and Malum looked at each other.
Fire spread across Malum’s bronze head, and the flames reflected in silver eyes. His baritone voice was soft as he said, “Every woman and man who has walked through the courtyard has a long sword on their hips. They glow with blue enchantments. Every single one of them.”
No one spoke.
There was nothing to say.
Nauseousness made my head light because enchanted steel could slice through anything.
The slur on my back burned.
Enchanted weapons were extremely rare because metals naturally repelled enchantments. They were next to impossible to forge and extremely expensive.
I breathed unevenly.
These weren’t primitive, unarmed civilians like the ungodly we’d previously fought on mountainsides.
“What does this mean?” Rina asked.
Scorpius’s milky eyes stared off, far away, as he sneered, “It means we have to kill armed civilians and then the ungodly.”
“We can’t fight them like we have before.” Malum’s mouth pulled tight with worry.
Lothaire had insinuated months ago that the ungodly we fought were weaker than others.
Had he known?
Even back then?
Suddenly it made sense why he’d only let us fight with daggers.
It had been a warmup.
“We’ll use our powers and our weapons strategically,” Knox said as a broadsword of ice formed across his back. Six more crackled into existence on the backs of the other angels.
The air temperature dropped several degrees.
Frost burned my nose.
I silently stared at my frost-covered fingers and imagined a sword forming.
Nothing happened.
I was useless.