News of the lost cities and defeated armies soon reached the capital's royal palace.
BAM
Ikarion slammed his fist on the conference table, golden hair whipping against the veins pulsing on his crimson forehead. His bloodshot eyes pierced the councillors and generals staring at their feet in shame.
But he inhaled, the fresh air cooling his mind. This was not the time for anger or recrimination—not with demons occupying the eastern part of his kingdom.
"Can someone explain how a thousand fiends and the weak remnants of Elden defeated us?" His fist trembled in suppressed anger over the table.
After his most trusted general reported the events, a deep furrow creased his brows as he knocked on the table pensively.
"Any suggestion to subdue them?"
"Crush them with an overwhelming number!"
