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Erick's presence loomed over the grand hall, the room draped in an air of anticipation as the council members settled into their designated seats. His iron throne, a towering seat of authority, was a stark contrast to the intricate tapestries adorning the walls. The flickering torches cast elongated shadows that danced across the polished marble floor, creating an eerie play of light and darkness.

Clad in regal attire, a crown adorned atop his head holding power, Erick sat with an imperious posture. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest of his throne, a subtle sign of his growing impatience. His stormy eyes held a calculating gleam, a reflection of the strategic mind that lay behind the façade of dominance.

As the council members whispered amongst themselves, the tension in the room escalated. The air seemed to crackle with a palpable energy, a mixture of loyalty and fear that surrounded their king. They knew well the consequences of disappointing him; his rule was as unyie