All eyes turned, the collective gaze of the room drawn toward the figure that strode down the center with an ease that spoke of immense power and years of undeniable command.
It was the Soul-King.
The room, heavy with tension, seemed to part for him as he moved. His presence exuded an undeniable aura of dominance, his steps deliberate, his gaze unyielding.
Cloaked in the robes of his station, with an intricate crown of obsidian and silver gleaming atop his brow, he walked with the confidence of one who had shaped the very world around him.
The Soul-Hunters, even those who bristled with indignation, lowered their heads in quiet submission to his unspoken rule.
"My dear Soul-Hunters." The Soul-King began, his voice smooth, yet firm, carrying the weight of centuries.
"I know your frustrations. I know your questions churn like storms within you, but all will be revealed in one sentence."