From the moment, he made the choice of abandoning his humanity and delved into the disgusting and dishonourable magic known as necromancy. To rely on a being that demanded the lives of their entire world just to make his niece become his woman.
The future of the man now sitting on a cold, empty throne became lost.
Anduil gazed down, four human knights old, weary and tired, those who followed his brother and then betrayed him to attain more power.
"You, Lucas. Report the current situation."
"Sire… the enemy has taken the southern front, with their rapid advance our troops have been completely routed."
There were traces of worry and anxiety in the words and aura of Lucas. He took responsibility for communication within their army and kingdom.
However, the day that Ulvar fell, he was attending a banquet with the other surviving nobles who supported Anduil in the northern territories.
"Imbecile!"
