The voice belonged to none other than Hazerion. He walked calmly, his poker face masking any unease he felt inside. Now standing among his generals, he gazed up into the night sky, his eyes locking onto Hamerion.
"So, brother, tell me, what is it you want? Why are you here?"
Hamerion gazed coldly as he hovered above them. "I'm here to get things over with."
Hazerion narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"Don't play dumb," Hamerion replied sharply. "The darkness attacked me and my people. We had to evacuate, and now we're all here. We can't beat around the bush anymore. Let's settle this once and for all—our people need their Overlord."
Hazerion's expression tightened as he processed his brother's words. "Are you saying we should abandon our previous agreement?"
"Obviously," Hamerion replied, his voice filled with disdain. "Or did you not hear a single thing I just said?"