"Regardless of the severity of their wounds, your warriors will survive," Ethan stated with certainty, holding the sovereign's gaze. "Furthermore, there are still vast quantities of this liquid. We can create immortal armies without limit, Your Majesty."
King Alaric von Dragonia slowly adjusted himself on his stone throne. He rested his arms upon the carved armrests and locked a deep, penetrating gaze onto Ethan. He then shifted his eyes toward his daughter, Isabella, and finally scanned each of the generals and nobles present in the great hall.
The silence that followed was almost unbearable. No one in the room dared even to breathe loudly.
After contemplating for nearly an hour in complete stillness, the King finally broke the silence. His voice echoed off the marble walls with an ancestral weight.
