Instantly, the atmosphere in the throne room shifted from its previous elegance and warmth to a lie. Even the beautiful melodies that had filled the air from the ceiling above went silent.
A coldness gripped the entire room, with several people staring at Moku with wide eyes. The servants who stood behind their masters froze, their teapots suspended mid-pour.
Aquaenar's initially smiling face also froze, his eyes twitching as if something were irritating his cheek.
Suddenly, a powerful aura emanated from one of the water elves seated beneath the throne, suffused with anger.
"YOU LITTLE!!!"
The presence was so overwhelming that the attendants behind him paled and instinctively moved back. The throne room seemed to quiver with the intensity of his overflowing anger. Moku wasn't sure of the exact level of this water elf's constellation, but one thing was certain: he was much stronger than Grit, whom he had encountered at West Fortress.