"I understand."
Aurek's voice was calm, steady, devoid of even the slightest ripple of hesitation.
He raised his right hand in a casual gesture, the motion carrying with it an undeniable sense of dismissal, a command that admitted no protest.
The old man lingered for a moment. His eyes fixed firmly upon the young figure before him, a back that already radiated an infinite, overwhelming aura of majesty.
It was as if he were trying to carve that silhouette into the very depths of his soul, afraid that one day it might vanish, or that he himself might forget what it meant to stand in the presence of true imperial power.
At last, he turned silently.
His boots pressed against the polished marble floor, producing a hollow, echoing cadence that reverberated through the vast hall like the toll of a funeral bell.
When he reached the great doors of the hall, carved with the proud imperial eagle entwined with olive branches, he paused.
