A Few Moments Ago, Inside the Meeting Hall
The atmosphere inside the meeting hall was thick with tension. Dim sunlight filtered through the high arched windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor and the heavy wooden conference table that stood at the room's center like a silent witness to the storm brewing within.
Seated around it were three of the kingdom's most formidable powerhouses—General Claymen, Iron Fist, and Rebecca. Each wore an expression carved from stone, their faces unreadable yet heavy with unspoken thoughts.
They had all received the devastating news the previous night. General Felix—once the unshakable wall of the southern front—had fallen. But it wasn't fate that shocked them; it was the manner of his defeat.
Claymen had reacted with immediate disbelief. His voice had thundered through his quarters as he cursed the messengers, threatening to shatter their legs if they dared spread falsehoods in the name of the honoured general.
