[9 months after the tournament]
In the aftermath of the tournament, a lingering tension hung over the group as they navigated the intricate web of post-event politics. The azure-haired youth with penetrating black eyes, characterized by a round chin and a sharply defined nose, brought forth unsettling news.
"The council is mounting immense pressure, urging us to cease our fervent pursuit of information," he revealed, his voice carrying the weight of the newfound challenge.
A chorus of speculation ensued as Oliver, known for his sardonic wit, questioned the council's motives. "Why? Are they trembling at the prospect of our burgeoning strength, making them fear loss of control? Perhaps we've stumbled upon something that undermines their authority?" he mused, injecting a touch of sarcasm.
Charles, with a knack for humor, chimed in, labeling the council as a "bunch of petulant little girls," eliciting laughter that momentarily alleviated the tension.
