"Ridiculous!"
Arthur's thunderous voice echoed in the grand hall, each word laced with contempt. His fiery eyes bore into Gray, like a predator fixating on prey that dared to defy its natural order.
"What did you say?" Azaroth demanded, his voice sharp as a blade. "What do you mean by that? You cannot be useless!"
He stepped forward, his imposing figure dominating the space. "After all the resources this family poured into you from the day you were born, we dared to hope! We thought that, one day, you'd shoulder the burdens with us, contribute to the Peace-loving legacy!"
Arthur's words grew harsher, his tone bordering on fury. "And yet here you are, hiding in the slums like a rat, too ashamed to face your own kin. What kind of son are you?"
