The air in the hall turned even heavier.
No one knew how much time passed before Zyraeth finally shifted a little on his throne. The motion was tiny, but it still made everyone unconsciously hold their breath.
"Your body was only just remade," he said at last.
"And you reached this place through the star-void passage in soul form. You haven't truly witnessed how terrifying the Oblivion Sea and the dimensional turbulence are."
There was no overt scolding in his tone. If anything, that calmness made it feel even more like an unchallengeable verdict.
"There will be plenty of chances to wage war."
Zyraeth's gaze settled on Khar'vathis, so deep nobody dared meet it.
"But—not now."
Khar'vathis's expression stiffened immediately.
He clearly wasn't willing to accept it.
But no matter how unwilling he was, he didn't dare go against Zyraeth's will at a moment like this. So he lowered his head, forced down the emotions boiling in his chest, and retreated back to his place.
