"It's over."
Very rarely was Emperor Rael's voice one of pure despair.
Yet this time, not even the slightest shred of hope could be detected within the depths of his voice.
His appearance was wearier than it had ever been in its entire life.
His eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion.
Dark bags hung underneath his eyes.
His golden hair was disheveled and dull.
His breathing was unsteady.
Opposite him, the projection of an equally grave Prime Minister Edward flickered.
RUMBLE…
Tremors passed through the secure underground chamber that hid the Emperor of Harmony. Prime Minister Edward could barely bring himself to utter a word of encouragement.
"…The nations have agreed to send their final remaining Martial Sages reserved for personal protection."
"It doesn't matter." Emperor Rael's listless eyes were devoid of light. "…A dozen or so Martial Sages are not going to make a difference. Hope has abandoned us when we needed it the most."
His eyes darkened.
