"Honestly, Vulkan, even I was a little scared seeing your headless body chasing him down with a hammer."
Russ bared his teeth, grinning as if he did not have a care in the world, and even cracked a joke that absolutely could not be called funny.
But Vulkan did not get angry over it—make no mistake, he was not a man without a bottom line.
If Russ had made that sort of joke for no reason at all, he would have been angry all the same. The only reason he stayed unmoved was that he understood Leman Russ too well.
He knew the Fenrisian was merely trying to lighten the mood.
But he did not laugh. He had no reason to laugh. For one thing, the joke was not funny; for another, he had no sense of humor to spare right now.
Russ had brought embarrassment on himself, but he was not annoyed either. In truth, his smile had already vanished, leaving only a profound calm.
Experienced hunters would tell you that a silent Wolf was the most dangerous kind. It meant they were already prepared to strike.
They walked through the darkness.
All around them was endless blackness and shadow. Konrad Curze had said, the moment he entered, that this place was somewhat like his realm, but after he reached out and touched that darkness, he took those words back.
His face grew taut, his lips pressed tightly together, as though he were suppressing an impulse toward violence.
As someone who could likewise move through shadow and darkness, Corax was even more cautious.
The Lord of the Ravens walked at the very rear of the group with his arms folded. Shadow covered his face, and only two silver glints flickered in the dark—proof that he was observing this darkness.