C111 THE CROWN OF ITS OWN CHOICE

The world did not breathe.

It held its breath—every ember, every flame, and every rune were frozen in awe as Elara stepped in front of the Throne. Damon held her tightly as if she were the only thing that kept him from falling apart. The First Heir stood behind them, his aura dim and his face unreadable.

But everything changed when the fire-being bowed its blazing head.

It repeated