Dimitri sat majestically in a high-backed chair draped in tiger skin, his sharp gaze fixed on the map sprawled across the table before him. The dim candlelight flickered against the rough stone walls, casting jagged shadows across the weapons that lined the room, blades, axes, and bows, each whispering of past wars and bloodshed. This was no ordinary chamber; it was the Beta Lord's personal armory, the place where he kept the very weapons he carried to war.
A thick silence filled the space until Dimitri's voice cut through it like a dagger.
"How's it going?" he asked, his tone cold yet expectant. "The prince of the human kingdom… the one rumored to have a divine gift… the one said to be capable of lifting my curse. Have you found him yet?"
