Cerdeaux, Cerdeauxia.
"How many ships have we lost?" Acellin, the Trunk of Cerdeauxia asked through clenched teeth.
His tone strained as he fought to control his anger.
He knew that letting his anger erupt now wouldn't help the situation. Nevertheless, the veins still pop up on his forehead.
Currently, the atmosphere in the opulent office was not very comfortable for anyone to stay inside.
On this particular day, the opulence of the room seemed overshadowed by Acellin's mounting frustration.
The captain of the merchant ships stammered in response, his voice trembling with fear, "T-twenty ships, sir."
He was acutely aware of his employer's intense disdain for losses in business.
Acellin's eyes blazed with frustration as he heard the captain's reply. "Twenty..." he muttered under his breath.
He closed his eyes briefly.
