As Vincent was about to prepare to leave, King Thandor spoke again, his voice carrying a weight that demanded attention.
"Twenty-one of our people were killed."
Vincent froze mid-step, the words hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. He slowly turned back to face the King, his expression carefully neutral.
"What do you mean, Your Majesty?" Vincent asked, keeping his tone respectful but guarded.
King Thandor's gaze was piercing, his eyes locked onto Vincent with an intensity that was hard to ignore.
"What I mean," the King continued, "is that twenty-one of my people—trained scouts, seasoned warriors—were killed recently. They were on a mission, tasked with gathering information, and now they are dead."
"That's unfortunate. Where did you send them? And isn't 21 people a lot for a scouting mission?"
