He was not alone. He barely had the care to notice, but it was obvious that he was being observed. In the midst of directing his foot soldiers, he could almost sense the presence of another set of eyes watching him, gauging his every move. They were commanded with nothing more than an inclination of the head, the raise of an eyebrow. None of those who fought in his name should have required anything more than that as a direction. The lot of them shrieked an ear-splitting roar while the portal closed behind him, having disgorged the last of their number in this location. Their fangs showed and they lunged forward in bestial, wing-assisted lopes as they charged the ranks of those who dared consider themselves powerful enough to even breathe the same air as him. None of them, not on either side of what could barely be considered a skirmish, was the one watching him. He floated forward, over the rubble of a ruined magistrate's structure. Its marble steps were cracked from