Ember arched her eyebrows as she witnessed a faint smile play across his lips. "I've attended meetings with powerful figures who despise me; this shouldn't pose much challenge," he stated, striding past her.
His confident strides only fueled Ember's intrigue. Approaching the door, the resonating clink of his armor drew the attention of the stationed guards.
As they observed Ember trailing behind him, the guards nudged open the colossal oak door, adorned with intricate engravings seemingly impervious to assaults below the Silver Star Tier.
With a resounding boom, the door swung open, revealing a sprawling chamber dominated by an icy throne occupied by a pallid, white-haired figure with cascading locks.
Their gazes momentarily locked—his icy blue eyes meeting Cristian's swirling, pitch-black orbs. Lowering his gaze, Cristian discerned a gathering of impeccably dressed individuals seated around a polished rectangular table.
