Ethan suddenly stood, the crimson cloak over his shoulders shifting as if caught in an unseen current. His long red hair billowed softly, and his golden eyes gleamed with an almost ethereal light. A hush fell over the great hall as he descended the stage with steady, confident strides. Every movement was deliberate, exuding authority and an unshakable presence that made the air heavier.
The congregation exchanged uncertain glances. This was supposed to be a moment of celebration, a new era for the Smith Clan. Yet, their newly appointed Patriarch's actions stirred a different kind of tension. Some clenched their fists, others watched in quiet anticipation. What was he doing?
Ethan came to a stop before the gathered members of the clan, his gaze sweeping over them like a monarch assessing his kingdom. His eyes held no contempt, only an understanding—a certainty that made even the most skeptical feel exposed under his scrutiny.
Then, he smiled.
