"What happened?! How could Aloysius Willard and Kiernan Hawke be killed?!" Ares shouted into the emergency council chamber of the internal imperial nobility.
He kicked the meeting room door open in a fury, his voice thundering with rage.
"The Elder Elven estate's security is as ironclad as Alverton Palace!
"There's never been an outside attack that could breach the Kalzarin and Valzareth knight perimeter! I was gone one day to Aravell. What the hell is going on?!"
After receiving word from Azura about the attack and deaths of Aloysius Willard and Kiernan Hawke, Ares and V were anything yet calm on their return to the palace. His mind was in chaos—he couldn't take in anything around him.
Yet he often clashed with Aloysius, Ares still respected him. He was his grandfather, after all. Stubborn and iron-fisted, yes—still, deep down, Ares knew he was caring, objective, and wise. He had a way of showing love uniquely his own.
