The council room was silent when I entered.
There were no murmurings, no adjusting of seats, no subtle scraping of boots across tile. Just quiet. Sharp, respectful. And most importantly… tense.
At the head of the table, Zhu Mingyu sat in full armor, his outer robe thrown over it like an afterthought. Dust still clung to the hem, and it was clear that he hadn't rested.
Then again, neither had I.
Shi Yaozu stepped in behind me, his presence unannounced but unchallenged. He didn't sit—he never did during wartime sessions. He stood at my left, a shadow made flesh, like he was telling everyone where he stood… and not in the physical sense.
"Where is the courier?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.
A hand lifted from the far end of the table. Lord Rui. Still bruised from our last encounter, but too old and too proud to show pain. He gestured to a folded cloth pouch placed carefully on the center stone. No seal. No name.
I walked to it without hesitation.
