The venue was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, even everyone's breathing was as light as possible, afraid of making any sound and disturbing the solemnity of the moment.
It was unclear how much time had passed, whether it was a few seconds, a few minutes, or seemingly several centuries. In the awe that allowed everyone to hear their own heartbeat, a hoarse yet powerful elderly voice finally echoed within the venue: "They shed their blood in times of war, and during peacetime, they continue to quietly dedicate themselves. There's no such thing as tranquil times, it's just that some people carry the burdens for us."
From behind the piano, an old man slowly walked out, his posture straight as a board, his eyes sharp, scanning the venue and giving everyone the strange feeling of being seen through at a glance.
Judging by his looks, he seemed like an ordinary old man, but everyone present felt a sense of apprehension, as if they were shorter in stature in front of him.
Aura!
