CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
Noah's hands came together slowly, the sound of his clap cracking across the frozen sea like distant thunder. The weight of his presence stretched outward, brushing against the chests of every Master of Existence and Primarch here. His voice followed, calm and stripped of all pretense.
"Very good," he said as he glanced at the glowing treasures surrounding them. "Now then... is there anyone else who believes they have a rightful stake in the Treasure Chests here?"
The stillness that followed wasn't silence. It was caution. It was reverence. The kind of hush that came before waves of existence collapsed!
HUUM!
Power emanated from him, cold and absolute. The kind of authority that didn't beg for compliance, but it expected it!
Noah did not raise his voice. He didn't need to. The reverberation of his authority, paired with the Glyph that pulsed like a slow heartbeat on his forehead, was enough to still the weavings of many.
And yet.
Master Neinoro scoffed.
