"You have been accused of treason."
Zephyr's words fell like a death sentence. His voice was low, calm... but every syllable was as sharp as a knife.
Kael stared at him in silence.
One... two... three... eight seconds.
In that time, his mind worked like a well-oiled machine: he gauged reactions, analyzed intentions, and evaluated exits. Finally, his face twisted into a grimace of confusion.
"What? I've been accused of treason?" His tone was filled with confusion, as if the accusation were a bad joke.
Zephyr didn't show the slightest change in expression.
"We have received reports from multiple sources that you sold information about our clan to the enemy."
The elders' gazes turned into invisible knives. They watched him with barely contained hatred, as if the blood was already burning to spill.
But Kael, inside, was nothing more than a rock submerged in deep waters.
His face maintained its confused mask, and he even raised his voice slightly, with measured indignation:
