The grand bathhouse was a marvel of ancient architecture, a place where knights, nobles, and warriors alike cleansed themselves before grand feasts and ceremonies. The high ceilings were adorned with intricate carvings of gods and legends, and the soft glow of enchanted lanterns bathed the room in warm light. Steam rose in thick, swirling clouds from the vast stone pool, which was carved directly from the mountain itself, filled with naturally heated water infused with fragrant herbs. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus drifted through the air, meant to soothe aching bodies and weary souls.
Amid this serene setting stood Luci—rigid, unmoving, and utterly unimpressed. His toned, battle-worn body was wrapped in nothing but a simple white towel, hanging loosely from his waist, barely covering his muscular frame. His arms were folded, his expression blank as five knights struggled against the immovable force that was Luci.
