In the vivid corridors of Akun's memory, a particular moment played out with vivid clarity. It was a moment that had transpired after the enslavement of Phenor and his family, a pivotal exchange that lingered in his thoughts like an indelible mark.
The sun's gentle morning rays bathed the kingin tribe as Phenor, standing before Akun, his expression resolute, ventured to make a request. "I and my family will serve you well," Phenor began, his voice unwavering. "All that I ask is that you resurrect the rest of my family."
Akun, with his characteristic coldness, responded, his tone carrying a weight of authority, "Do you think you are in any position to be making demands?"
Phenor's eyes betrayed a flicker of rage, but he held his emotions in check. He remembered the stern warning from the god of death, the need to remain compliant and respectful. Swallowing his pride, he lowered himself to the ground, his forehead touching the floor in a humble bow.
