The King, like a living shadow, rose slowly from his seat, the creaking of the throne beneath his movement echoing like the echoes of a forgotten world. His figure was imposing, his presence absorbing the light in the room, and when his feet touched the floor, everything in the room seemed to shudder. The already heavy air became thick, as if the castle itself were holding its breath at the magnitude of what was about to happen.
With a slow and precise movement, as well as that characteristic confidence, he began to walk toward the meeting room. Each step he took resonated on the floor like a Titan, and the shadows around him lengthened as if responding to his will. He had no intentions, nor was he in a hurry, but his every movement radiated absolute power, an imposing calm that permeated the veins of those who followed him.
