A week later on Zalthor,
A disconcerting silence permeated the streets of the Bloodburn Kingdom.
Underneath the palpable tension, an ominous energy clung to the air, winding its way through the narrow streets and enveloping the historic structures in a tangible dread.
The citizens, once bustling with vivacity, now retreated into the shadows, eyeing the approaching spectacle with a mix of trepidation and curiosity.
Prince Drakon, the 79th prince of the Draconis Kingdom, made his way through the center of the town, his stature formidable and his presence commanding an indomitable respect – or at least, a cautious distance.
He along with a middle-aged draconian dressed in elegant robes just like Drakon, were seated on an open dark red chariot which seemed to be made out of the finest metals.
