Grolf's silence stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts. He leaned forward, the clink of his glass against the table the only sound breaking the tension.
He reached for the whiskey bottle, uncorking it with a practiced flick of his wrist. Amber liquid gurgled into his glass, a fiery promise in the dim light. He took a long, deliberate sip, the burn a contrast to the coolness in his gaze.
Finally, he spoke, his voice a low rumble. "Both," he said simply. "One can only be achieved through the other."
Adrian paused, his posture mirroring Grolf's contemplative lean. It was a calculated gesture, almost like a silent acknowledgement of the weight in Grolf's words.
"So, like I said when we first met," Adrian continued, "we are not so different, you and I. We both desire Azkai's well-being." A slight smirk played on his lips. "I have no interest in usurping your position, Grolf. My ambition lies solely with Azkai's growth, with conquest."
