Within the confines of the room stood a formidable man of great stature, his short, snowy beard exuding an air of authority. His navy-colored robes were adorned with intricate details, a testament to his status. Every word that escaped his lips held immense power, capable of potentially destroying someone's life. He alone bore the weight of the gravity of his decisions, fully comprehending their implications.
"Good morning, Father!" Prince Claus greeted his father with a slight bow and a smile. He was happy to finally have the opportunity to see his father, who had been busy with his duties due to the ongoing war with the Eastern Continent.
Despite his old age, King Pierson's face still exudes vitality, devoid of any wrinkles. As his son approaches him, a sense of pride overcomes him, and he gently pats Prince Claus's back to acknowledge his greeting.
