"Your Excellency," the silver-haired elder said.
The title was deliberate. It acknowledged not only his status as a representative of a realm capable of producing someone of his level, but also his standing as a Rank Four existence. Around the hall, several of the other elders mirrored the gesture in silence.
"You speak the truth."
Her gaze swept across the circle before returning to him.
"We have reached the same conclusion," she continued. "This is not a matter that concerns a single race unless that race is prepared to bear a potentially crippling loss."
This was the truth. In the early levels of Hell, there were multiple races that could afford to send a Rank Four or several peak Rank Threes to confront the Demon Lord. However, as long as the battle did not take place in the deeper floors, any fight to the death would result in severe losses.
