At this hour, the halls of Velthomer castle were empty, as the servants and guards had been dismissed for the evening. Arvis walked with purpose toward his study, the only disturbance in the darkness being the flickering light of candles.

He was concocting yet another scheme, envisioning another thread to intricately weave into the grand tapestry of his plans. The other nobles were simply pawns, unaware of the greater destiny that Jugdral would experience under his leadership. They engaged in power struggles and territorial disputes without considering the long-term consequences, seemingly satisfied with perpetuating historical biases and trivial disagreements.

Fools. All of them. They failed to recognize the gift that Arvis possessed, which was his ruthless clarity of vision that made him stand out. No matter the cost, he alone had the ability to lead Jugdral to peace.

Arvis settled comfortably into the high-backed chair in his study. He took out a fresh sheet of parchment and dipped his quill into the ink. His piercing red eyes were caught by the flickering candlelight, while a sly smile curved his lips. Unbeknownst to the nobles, they danced to the tune of a piper who was ready to collect what was owed to him.