Dozens of ships bearing the emblem of the Silver Dragon broke through the clouds, deploying in an encircling formation over the plain. Prominent among the fleet was a primary war cruiser, its luxury and scale rivaling that of the White-Sea Dragon.
From the belly of the cruiser, a floating platform draped in an elegant crimson carpet descended. Atop it advanced a delegation led by a youth with silver hair and silk robes embroidered with gold thread. His features were sharp, yet the haughtiness in his gaze and the arrogant smirk on his lips ruined any semblance of elegance.
Beside him walked two elders in heavy armor, their auras revealing beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were in the Spiritual Transcendence Realm.
"Crown Prince Julian..." Isabella murmured through the bridge's window, her jaw clenched and her gaze frozen in coldness.
"Looks like the peacock came to strut his feathers," Ethan commented, walking toward the decompression ramp alongside King Alaric and Vaelen.
