Chapter 117. Iram's Reason

Both of Iram's hands rose in surrender.

Sweat dripped down Iram's temples; he was cornered and unable to attack further.

Red stood up from the floor, her eyes wary of Iram. The young man still had two swords sheathed in his back, and if he had Aamon's speed, Fiona might lose both her arms.

When Iram made a slight movement, the sound of Fiona cocking her gun echoed.

"I said don't move!" Fiona barked. She glared sharply at Iram's back and shot a glance at Red. "Take Iram's swords and get him out of here. We'll blow his head off outside."

"You're not serious, are you? Please don't kill me," Iram begged, his voice shaking.

"I'm deadly serious about traitors like you, who are more dangerous than Troy or any machine," Fiona sneered, pressing the barrel of the rifle harder against Iram's head. "Out! Now!"

"Please, spare me..." Iram's voice trembled with fear.

"What were you thinking? You were going to kill Red, weren't you?" Fiona growled.