GrandLord Dreath did not immediately move after that realization settled into the air.
He stood there, his skeletal frame unmoving, his hollow gaze fixed on the Moonshade family members who had just risen from what should have been their end. There was no anger in his expression, no visible frustration, but there was something else that lingered in his presence, something that carried weight even without form.
A need to understand.
Slowly, he stepped forward.
Not with force.
Not with dominance.
But with purpose.
Lord Vord followed, though his posture remained tense, his eyes still flickering between the recovered Moonshade members as if he expected them to erupt into something terrifying once more. Elder Achilor walked beside them, his expression controlled, yet his attention sharper than ever, observing every detail, every movement, every breath taken by those who stood before them.
"…You."
Dreath's voice came out steady, calm, and far quieter than before.
