"That's… That's…"
In the end, Nythera's words died in her throat as she stared blankly at the glass cup of wine before her.
Even for one who had reigned as the Ruler of the Umbrawyrs for hundreds of years, the thought of a Higher Plane race descending upon the Umbrawyric world was enough to leave her unable to muster a word.
This wasn't something that could be taken lightly.
While she had never fought a Higher Plane expert, she had heard enough tales of them. If what White was saying was true, and he truly was the last slot of the Mallory Umbrawyrio, then it made absolute sense for a drove of them to descend upon the Umbrawyr race, and nothing would stop them from making the race go extinct.
"You could have told me this much sooner."
She muttered beneath her breath, her eyebrows creased.
"What would it have changed?"
White replied.
"What? Don't tell me you've already accepted our fate of extinction?"
White turned to her.
