"Please, take a seat," Logan said, gesturing broadly to the plush chairs arranged around the polished oak table.
Begon, his uncle, nodded appreciatively and chose a seat next to Logan, who also found himself a chair directly across. The room settled into a quiet anticipation.
Logan's eyes twinkled with a mix of amusement and respect as he spoke, "The Duskin tribe is truly magnanimous. To think they sent us a sixth-level powerhouse as an envoy."
The messenger from Duskin, Kule, maintained a composed facade, though his expression faltered ever so slightly. Despite his control, it was clear that Logan had seen through his considerable strength.