The chiefs of Aragon were seated in the meeting hall of the Beastmen with Alejandro at the helm of the meeting.
Their expressions were notably grim as they stayed silent, seemingly in deep mourning judging from the somber atmosphere.
Alejandro let out an audible sigh before addressing the group. "We lost almost 10 of our brothers and sisters."
The number spoken caused the chiefs to wince, almost like they didn't want to hear it, wishing to ignore the fact that their brethren had died just like that.
"Each one turned into grotesque trees possessing abyssal auras." Alejandro continued regardless even as it was difficult for him to say it.
Taking a deep breath, he muttered. "There is something wrong, brothers, sisters… Our Space Dial has picked up disturbances far beyond what it can properly calculate. We can only assume that it is similar to the disaster that happened to the Empire 300 years ago."
