Ethan's fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his throne, his impatience growing more obvious by the second.
Everyone in the hall could feel his mood shift. Their voices naturally dropped, quieter and more careful—but no one dared stop. They could only grit their teeth and keep reporting.
Then hurried footsteps pounded in from outside.
Feylora rushed in.
She didn't do her usual slow, formal salute. Instead, she went straight to the center of the hall and spread a map on the floor. The instant it unfolded, Ethan's lazy gaze finally sharpened.
"Master—we found that civilization from before."
Feylora looked up, speaking fast.
"It's at The Karvoss Strait!"
Ethan was on his feet almost instantly.
He strode down the steps and snatched up the map.
A narrow, remote strait was marked on it—ten thousand miles from Emerald Castle. Long and thin, tucked away at the edge of the chart, surrounded by wide stretches of water and several key shipping routes.
The Karvoss Strait.
