The corridors of the elves' palace were long, carved from greenish marble with golden veins that pulsed gently with ancient mana. Enchanted vines flowed down the columns as if they breathed with the palace itself, and tall stained glass windows let the sunlight in in prismatic beams, coloring the floor with soft hues.
Strax walked with firm steps, his cloak swaying behind him like a living shadow. Even there, in one of the most sacred places in ancient elven civilization, his presence stood out - a dragon in a man's body, carrying an aura that made the walls whisper stories to the echoes.
He wasn't there to revere anyone.
He was behind Frieren and Evelyn.
At the end of the corridor, a living wooden door pulsed slowly as if it had a heart of its own. Tall, imposing, with carvings in ancient elven that danced in the light, it indicated the entrance to one of the most protected halls in the kingdom.
Strax approached, but was stopped before he could take the final step.
