A hand grabbed him by the throat, hoisting him in the air.
As his legs dangled uselessly in the air, he realized where he was through his drunken stupor.
He was standing face to face with Saint Agnes, the Living Saint of the Emperor.
The woman, standing at about thirteen feet in height, was winged, hovering in the air. She was clad in old armour, but the drunken templar could see the golden shine of her eyes through her helm. She held a flaming blade in her free hand.
[i][u]"I should kill you where you stand, heretic scum."[/u][/i]
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