"Gemnarch?"
At the name, the Practitioners fell into utter silence. Even the stands seemed frozen in time, every gaze fixed on the ogre standing on the scale.
"Lady Thalira, are you saying he is a real Gemnarch?" Thalira Luna's close aides could not hold back their suspicion and whispered the question.
The Gorathim had always claimed they were the bloodline of the Gemnarch, an Elder Race. From the highest races to the smallest, everyone had heard the rumor at least once in their lives; the claim was too momentous to miss. Yet hearing a rumor and believing it were two different things.
In essence, when one considered that every race—near or distant—came from the Elder Races, all of them were branches of the first peoples ever created to walk these lands. But when a single race claimed pure blood and a direct connection to one Elder Race, especially here in the Outer Region, disbelief was natural.
