The Elven King
As the crowd watched, a ripple of surprise and unease passed through them, their faces twisted in disapproval and uncertainty toward Enel's unexpected victory.
Tension thickened in the air, murmurs rising like a wave of dissent.
But then, the Queen lifted her hand with a graceful wave, and the grand luxury box she stood in began to descend, connecting seamlessly with the stage.
The shimmering aura of magic accompanied her descent, commanding the attention of all present.
She moved with practiced poise, her elegant gown trailing like liquid silver. When she finally stood before Enel, a faint, approving smile touched her lips.
"Well done," she said, her voice carrying a smooth, almost chilling calm. "Although I didn't expect so much bloodshed… you did great."
Enel's brow furrowed slightly, uncertain if her approval was genuine or something more layered, but before he could respond, she reached forward, placing a gentle hand atop his head.