The authoritative endorsement from the Church Court acted as a solid cornerstone, completely consolidating William IV's once-shaky royal power within the Kingdom.
Those once-restless nobles and dissent-harboring vassals had no choice but to sheathe their claws and renew their oaths of fealty under the twin halos of the Saintly Father and the Church Court's support.
Now, with his throne secure and authority firmly in hand, William IV had naturally swept away the gloom of the past.
Even more conspicuous was the man following half a step behind William IV—an elderly man as burly and imposing as an iron tower.
His hair and beard were grizzled, but his complexion was ruddy and his gaze as sharp as a falcon's. He wore a set of simple, ancient-style half-plate armor in dark gold, impeccably maintained, and over it, a deep red hooded robe embroidered with the crest of a roaring lion.
His mere presence exuded a formidable aura, heavy as a mountain and forged in a hundred battles.
