The room was filled with the scent of mahogany wood and the slow-melting wax of a candle resting on its silver holder. A towering bookshelf lined the walls, packed with ancient tomes bound in leather, their covers darkened by time. At the center of the room stood a grand oak desk, polished to a gleam, reflecting the soft glow of a crystal chandelier overhead.
Arkan sat behind the desk, his fingers interlaced over the cool wooden surface. His face was illuminated by the flickering fire burning in the hearth at the side of the room, casting faint shadows on the intricately carved walls. In a deep, calm voice, he finally broke the silence.
"Pastor… The kingdom's situation is growing more dire. You may not have heard yet, but within the empire, the throne has changed hands. The new king… he is a highly ambitious man. His goal is to seize control of all the surrounding territories. And that means this neutral kingdom—the very land we now stand upon—will soon be dragged into war."
