Half an hour later, two demon race members dressed in coarse cloth were escorted into the hall by guards.
The two were pale and trembling all over. As soon as they stepped into the hall, they fell to their knees with a thud, their kneecaps hitting the stone slabs with a muffled sound.
They kowtowed repeatedly, quickly bruising their foreheads and speaking with a cry in their voice, "Princess, spare us! Princess, spare us! We were momentarily confused by idle talk and will never dare do it again!"
The Eldest Princess slowly stood up, walked to the two, and glanced coldly over them, her tone without a ripple, yet carrying unquestionable authority:
"The Golden-winged Roc Race has always revered strength and valued unity. Huan'Er is my direct grand-nephew, gifted with talent and able to receive guidance from the father. It is the good fortune of our race and my fortune as well."
She paused, then her voice suddenly turned stern:
