"Lord Belenor's father is the god of strength who shakes the galaxy!"
Damiron forced herself calm, trying to keep her voice steady. She wasn't reckless—dropping an elder's name might intimidate whoever stood before them. Given what had happened with the Three-Eyed Lord, no one dared to meet the mysterious figure's gaze despite Orson's cocky words.
"Master of this domain, may I ask your purpose in our territory?"
Belenor's voice was cold. The silver giant before them flexed like a living mountain of muscle—an utterly dominating presence.
"Mind your manners. The lunar base was built by my uncle Nightshade, what does your House of Strength have to do with that?" Aaron shot back, anger in his tone.
"Win or lose, that's the rule of Infinite Dimensions. Don't blame anyone for it," Belenor said with a grim smile.
"Put on the mortals' modesty, or we will treat it as desecration of our lord."
