That should have been its last smile.
Ruger believed he had not imagined it. That head really was still smiling. The head in its proper position was now being squeezed slightly askew, while the purple head that had grown out through its chest slowly straightened itself at an angle painful even to watch.
It would never be able to straighten completely. The two heads would probably settle into coexistence, each tilted slightly to one side. It reminded Ruger of an old friend, the Two-Headed Demon. That was probably how it would end up looking. The Two-Headed Demon was doing well with Zorn, and its aura had grown somewhat stronger. Ruger had seen it once, drinking with Zorn, and it had even given him an ingratiating smile.
Dust and rubble slowly settled. The once open, faintly eerie clearing surrounded by Giant Trees had been reduced to devastation.
The Emberfolk stopped falling for the moment, but the wizards had also exhausted the water balls in their specially made implements.
A streak of purple flame flew up and landed on the masses of Emberfolk gathering around, tinting every one of them purple. Even the flames exposed in the jagged gaps between their stones glowed with a savage purple light.
Standing high above, Ruger looked from side to side. He sensed the high-rank Invader's aura on those Emberfolk, and their entire bearing changed with it.
The wizards remained unhurried and composed. There were even a few fewer of them now; some had left without anyone noticing when.
Those who had left were probably the more cautious wizards, but their departure was also a form of contempt.
They seemed to hold the creature on the throne in complete disregard. They cared even less about its words, and paid no attention to whatever changes might follow,