"Robin Burton, wait!!"
A sudden, thunderous female voice ripped through the air like a divine decree, shaking both the heavens and the earth in a way that commanded immediate attention. All eyes snapped toward its source, a presence impossible to ignore.
"Your Majesty."
In an instant, the twelve elders bowed in synchronized reverence, their movements disciplined and respectful. Darmek, on the other hand, responded with a lazy, half-hearted military salute, one hand lifted in routine rather than respect.
"Your Maj—"
The head of the gate guards barely managed to speak before he was cut off—violently. Soul creature, Cilibus, allowed him no time to breathe, let alone perform a proper salute. In a flash, he was overwhelmed.
