Westheid's voice drowned out all the whispers. The nobles of the Pioneer Territory had brought their own elite Guards, but they were insignificant compared to the surrounding Qinghui Legion.
Duke Qinghui's words carried great weight. Though his voice wasn't particularly loud, it instantly silenced the nobles of the Pioneer Territory.
Some who had complained about Westheid's stance felt a surge of fear in retrospect, regretting their disrespect.
However, Westheid showed no intention of pursuing the matter, merely urging them over with a smile.
Duke Qinghui stood on the highest nearby platform, which offered a vast, open view. From there, one could even see the capital of Winter Fall Province on the horizon.
On the horizon stood a colossal tree. A faint purple mist shrouded its withered, twisted form, which was covered in vines and thorns. Above its canopy-like crown, a foul swarm of winged creatures gathered like a dark cloud.
