"You!" the Oracle roared, his voice shaking the hall like a thunderclap. Behind him, the celestial knights immediately stepped forward, weapons drawn and pointed directly at King Edmund. The tension in the room surged to a boiling point, but Edmund stood tall, not a flicker of fear crossing his face.
"Go ahead and kill me," he said with defiant calm. "If you do, the world will finally see the celestial temples and the Grey Empire for what they truly are—tyrants hiding behind borrowed divinity."
The room fell into stunned silence.
"Drop your weapons, or you will force us to take action," came a cold voice from the side. The Draconian chieftain, who had remained silent for most of the meeting, now stepped forward, his scales glinting faintly in the golden light of the hall. His expression was stern, irritated. He had endured much, but this blatant disrespect—pointing weapons at a king—was more than he would tolerate.
