The moment the words left the lips of the ten elders, the entire arena seemed to freeze in a strange and heavy silence, as if even the air itself had paused to understand what had just been said.
"We… are already bound," Elder Ghurn said slowly, his voice carrying both pride and unease as his aged eyes swept across the gathered powers. "We have entered a blood pact with Madam Cornelia."
His words did not come out lightly. There was hesitation in every syllable, as if even he himself could not fully accept the weight of what that meant in a place like this, where bloodlines, authority, and power dictated every breath that one could take.
The other nine ancestors stood behind him, their expressions mirroring his own. Some had their brows furrowed, some clenched their fists, and some looked toward Cornelia as if waiting for her to either confirm or deny it, as if they themselves were still not fully certain whether what they had done was a blessing or a chain.
