As they entered, the atmosphere shifted. Inside, William found a few fierce-looking masters with fierce looks on their faces. They looked like men who had lived far too long on the front lines, their skin scarred and their eyes cold.
"They are my most trusted fellow elders in the Blue Purgators," the leader introduced them with a casual wave. "Sit. Do you like drinking?" He gestured toward a large, ornate bottle filled with a dark red, potent-smelling alcohol.
"Thanks," William said, taking the seat opposite the leader at the circular table, "but I don't like drinking. I prefer to keep my head clear."
"Cool, but I do," the leader said, clearly in a buoyant mood. He poured himself a glass and took a slow sip before leaning forward, his gaze intensifying. "So, the war is won. No more threats are waiting for us here, only opportunities. Isn't that right?"
