Inside the main command tent of the Arcadia Army, a deadly atmosphere filled the entire place.
The deaths of several nobles, along with Ethan's successful escape, had thrown the entire camp into a state of unease. Every officer and servant moved carefully while keeping their heads lowered. Nobody dared to speak unnecessarily because everyone knew the Emperor's mood had reached its lowest point.
The atmosphere was so cold that it felt difficult to breathe.Everyone felt as though they were walking on the edge of a cliff.
At the center of the tent, Haster sat on his seat with one leg crossed over the other. His fingers slowly tapped against the armrest in a steady rhythm while a deep and menacing look rested on his face. His sharp eyes remained fixed on the scout kneeling before him.
The scout lowered his head even further before carefully beginning his report.
"Your Majesty."
