"Now!"
Duke Icevern's shout echoed across the chamber, cutting through the din of battle like the chill edge of his blade. It was a command that brooked no argument, pulling everyone into perfect focus. The three chancellors—Lisanor, Elysior, and Balthus—stepped forward in response, their faces solemn and determined. They moved as if they were a single being, each raising their hands, the air thrumming with latent power. Together, they clapped—a single, resonant sound that reverberated off the stone walls, shaking loose the dust that had settled over centuries. The resonance traveled through the ley lines embedded deep within the fortress, and for a moment, it felt as if Aetherion itself had come alive, its very essence quivering in response to the call of the mages.
