The main hall of the Egrassel estate was drowned in a shiny skint. Tall columns, entwined with leaf patterns, rested against the vaulted ceiling, and between them these golden crystals twinkled like drops of the sun frozen in stone. There was an arched window behind the king, through which blinding light poured, turning his silhouette into an angel descending from heaven with a luminous halo on his head. This created a contrast with the coldness and cruelty emanating from the ruler himself.

Egrassel sat on a throne forged from precious metal and a bright skint in the center. Every curl and curve on his armrests seemed alive—a work of art by skilled craftsmen who worked hard under the harsh hand of power. His slender, long fingers slowly drummed on the surface of the pen. But there was no joy in this splendor, only a shadow of the ruthless power and control that pierced the hearts of all who dared to enter this sacred but gloomy hall.

Suddenly, the doors opened, and a guard entered the hall, dragging a prisoner with him. It was Tuilin, Egrassel's friend, with whom he was connected not only by memories of a carefree youth, but also by deep ideals that he casually discarded to demonstrate his influence and that he was worthy of bearing the title of monarch of Archaea. Her eyes, full of bitterness and defiance, met the ruthless green eyes of the king.

"You shouldn't have come here," Egrassel said casually, but with a hint of displeasure. "You knew how this could end."

"Huh, you're incorrigible, Egrassel," Tuilin replied somewhat sadly, as if desperately. "You've become someone you once hated. Your cruelty will destroy us all."

The king slowly raised his hand, and a deathly silence reigned in the hall. At the same time, the elf's gesture prompted you, his faithful knight, to step forward to carry out the instructions.

"Kill her" Egrassel ordered you, leaning back on his throne as if tired.