The Blackblood Lord's tone left no room for misunderstanding.
The guests held their breath. The Frostbound Lord stood beside him like a mountain of ice, silent but just as ready to act.
Yet the Yaksha Lord didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled. Not the smile of a man who was proud, but one that looked almost... tired.
"My old friend," he said, voice softer now. "Your anger is justified. I accept that."
He stepped forward again, not close enough to be threatening, but enough to be seen clearly.
"But look at it from my side too. We are from the demonic faction. You know what that means. It means we fight to survive. We do what we must—lie, cheat, kill—if it keeps us alive."
He took a pause, letting his words settle.
"Of course, as demonic as we might be, we also need to abide by a code. I'm not asking you to forgive me. And I'm not going to offer you spirit stones or treasures either. A loss like yours... can't be covered with gold or resources."
