The single word—"What!", still trembled through the grand hall long after it left his lips.
Alexander Arman sat motionless on the lone cushion, the letter trembling faintly in his hands. His sharp emerald eyes darted across the parchment again and again, as though afraid the words would vanish if he dared to blink.
Once. Twice. A dozen times. Only after the twelfth reading did he finally accept that this wasn't some cruel trick of his mind. The message was real.
"…After all this time," he muttered, voice low but unsteady, "is there finally a way… to destroy these wretched things?"
It was rare, unheard of, even for an emperor of his stature to lose composure. But this… this news was enough to shake the pillars of his restraint.
The letter spoke of a boy, someone who possessed the ability to destroy corruption.
