1522 Arrival [1]

A man kneeled before another. There were many differences between them, but the most obvious one was the color of their skin.

The kneeling man's skin was white, while the one he kneeled to had an ashen-grey tone to himself.

"Have the others come?"

The grey-skinned man asked the question, but his tone wasn't inquisitive. It was more like he was merely observing facts, no sort of personal emotion present in his demeanor.

"Yes. You are the last one to arrive."

Though he kneeled, the man's tone wasn't submissive.

He spoke as if he was only kneeling for ceremony. There was no respect in his voice.

At least, not the type of respect that viewed anyone as superior to himself.

"I see…"

The grey-skinned man nodded his head.

"The Lord ordered this attack suddenly. I'm impressed with your efficiency," he said, just as indifferent as before.