"Are we really going to attack the Austere Clan, Father?" the young man asked, his brows furrowed as he stood beside his father on the deck of a large flying vessel.
The wind tugged at his dark hair, and his eyes, sharp and questioning, searched the older man's expression for any trace of hesitation.
He was striking to behold—handsome, poised, and already in the Golden Core Realm despite being in his twenties.
His cultivation talent was undeniable, the kind that stirred both admiration and envy among his peers. Yet now, standing amidst a mobilizing army, even he couldn't hide his uncertainty.
Veronica's father, a weathered man with lines of both wisdom and war etched into his face, didn't respond right away.
He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out over the horizon where dozens of flying boats hovered, awaiting his command.
