The Hunting Competition (2)

A few hours earlier.

The soft glow of morning sunlight spilled through the wide windows, infusing the office of the Grand Commander with a gentle radiance. The room seemed to come alive with a warm, golden hue, softening the edges of the ornate furniture and casting a tranquil atmosphere upon the otherwise bland space.

Hector rhythmically tapped his boots, observing Caym's focused presence by the expansive strategic map. 

"Grand Commander, are you truly not attending the hunting competition?" he inquired.

Caym, tracing his finger across the names on the map, responded, "Why should I?"

"As the Grand Commander, you can't afford to skip it anymore. In previous years, you had the excuse of being on missions, but today, you're simply within the barracks," Hector emphasized.

"Why don't you take my place?" Caym inquired.