The corridor leading to the strategy room always seemed long—but that morning, following Exelia's hard, hurried steps, it seemed endless. Each beat of the general's boots against the floor echoed off the stone walls as if announcing something inevitable, something everyone felt approaching, even without knowing what it was.
Kael walked close behind, wiping the dried sweat from his brow, his muscles still tense from the fight. Amelia and Irelia walked beside him, silent, their expressions too serious for those who, just minutes before, had been trying to tear his arm off with magic and sword.
And then the double doors opened.
The strategy room of the royal castle was neither majestic nor grand. It was old. Ancient. A relic formed of black stone, silver runes, and carved columns that supported the ceiling. And in the center…
