Azanlin Xandros's POV
The chamber walls pulsed with arcane energy, the ancient runes glowing as if stirred by the presence of true power. I stood at the center, the crescent staff in my hand humming softly, alive with the breath of sorcery.
"Adolfa Ray survived," the emissary whispered, dropping to one knee. His voice was trembling, unworthy.
Silence settled over the court like a blade.
I raised an eyebrow. "Is this confirmed?"
"Yes, my lord. She escaped the Greko Pack, and according to our informants, she's being aided. Strong connections, ancient ones."
Hatred ignited within me. So they dared? They dared assist the offspring of our oldest enemies? The daughter of those who spilled Sorcerer blood?
"So be it," I said, my voice like thunder. "Then the time of waiting
