Nicholas let the silence settle for a moment longer before he finally exhaled, dragging his thoughts away from the empty silver chair and the tension that had already started building in his chest.
When he spoke again, his voice carried the weight of a battlefield lord, the voice of someone who had seen death and returned with it still clinging to his skin.
"As you all already know," he began, his sharp gaze sweeping across the gathered lords and beasts, "the enemy we are facing is not ordinary. He has grown stronger… far stronger than before, and he is no longer fighting alone."
The murmurs that followed were low and uneasy, like wind passing through dry leaves.
