The patriarch and some of the elders of the Gordons clan were gathered in a courtyard, they were the key decision-makers of the clan, but still yet they were all waiting anxiously for news from the battlefield.
Suddenly, a mage rushed in, drawing sharp glares from nearly every elder present, the weight of their gazes made his knees weak, his body trembling uncontrollably.
He quickly cupped his hands and bowed low.
“Forgive this disturbance, elders, this lowly one brings an urgent message.”
“Speak!” A booming voice echoed through the hall, peeking up nervously, the mage saw the source, a towering man seated upon the throne marked with the number three, his upper body was bare, muscles bulging like sculpted stone.
Behind him loomed a massive golden golem, its gleaming body radiant with
