No Mercy for the Fallen

At the entrance of the sanctuary, a familiar face was waiting.

Bovras Bloodworth stood with his military cap in his hands, the weight of his presence unmistakable. The Float Admiral had not come empty-handed, he carried news Arthur would not want to hear.

Arthur approached with measured steps, Seisyll close behind him. A quiet, steadying presence, Seisyll didn't speak, but his gaze lingered on his king's tensed shoulders, a silent caution against letting emotion take hold too quickly.

Arthur clenched his jaw, every fiber of him bracing against the mounting tension as he tried to piece together the why and the how.

Bovras exhaled, delaying the inevitable, his tone carrying a careful weight. He had delivered difficult news before, sentencing men to death, and issuing wartime orders that ensured losses.