The setting is the opulent Ottoman palace, its marble floors polished to a mirror-like sheen reflecting the golden glow of the chandelier overhead. The air is thick with the scent of incense, exotic spices, and the faint hint of musk from the many perfumed bodies within. At the heart of the grand hall stands Bali Bey, his broad shoulders accentuated by the ornate armor that clings to every curve of his muscular frame. His piercing gaze scans the crowd, each face holding a different expression of awe and respect for the renowned warrior.

Malkochoglu strides through the entrance, his imposing figure drawing attention as easily as a beacon in the night. The soft rustle of silk whispers around him, the fabric of his robes swaying with each confident step. His dark eyes scan the room, landing on Bali Bey with a spark of defiance burning bright.