The chaos of the world outside had been left behind this door.
The moment Cassian, having overcome the armored guards with his body and the sorcerer with his cunning, reached his destination, he saw that the room already had an occupant.
In a large, carved armchair across from the fireplace sat a man in his late twenties.
His ash-colored hair was cut short but neatly styled.
His muscular physique, sculpted by countless battles and training, was evident even beneath the simple yet fine fabric of his shirt.
This man was Fredrinn, the Ruler of Veythral.
Fredrinn showed no reaction as Cassian slipped into the room.
His gaze was lost in the vortex of dark red liquid swirling within the wine glass he held.
It wasn't that he hadn't sensed Cassian's presence.
On the contrary, he possessed a calm that suggested he had been expecting his arrival.
He was already aware of him.
After taking a slow sip from his glass, Fredrinn spoke without turning his gaze to Cassian.
