Inside the castle hallway, Ivan stood calm, his hand still holding Lyriana by the neck. Opposite them, Aldric remained perfectly still, his eyes sharp, watching intently.
He thought, Dammit, it's almost a minute already. Why isn't he back yet? There isn't any time left. I can't wait any longer. I've got to act now's my chance. Have to attack. Whatever it takes—I can't let him kill Lyriana.
His grip tightened on his weapon. He was about to lunge, but suddenly he heard it—though it was quiet, a faint deliberate sound that froze him. The soft cadence of boots on stone behind him.
At the far end of the long, dim corridor, Draven's silhouette flashed into view, moving quickly. Approaching in less than a breath, he was there, beside Aldric. Glancing sideways, he thought, Finally, brat. You took your time.
Draven glanced over at him. He thought, So the dumbass didn't move. Thought he might've already attacked.
Ivan, staring at him, spoke, voice cold:
"There you are. You took your time, nephew. I thought you'd run away. If you'd come even a second later, she'd be dead. Since you've got the egg—I want it, and you'll hand it to me, or I'll show you exactly how fast life ca—"
But Draven cut him off, eyes going cold. He said,
"Fuck you.
As if I'll ever do that. You really think I'm that stupid?"
To hand over my only card? Once this bastard gets what he wants, he won't just most likely kill her—but both of us.
Ivan's lips curled almost imperceptibly. He just watched Draven, patient and cold. He spoke, voice calm:
"No.
I think you're desperate. Which is why you'll—"
He let the words sit between them.
"Give me the egg. Now."
Draven, staring at him, said,
"You want the rock? I don't mind giving it. But how about you let go of her first?"
Ivan's eyes turned cold. He flicked his gaze to Lyriana, then back to Draven. The corner of his mouth twitched—amusement and annoyance.
He spoke, voice cold:
"How annoying. You dare—what, may you think you can bargain with me? You disgusting mixed‑blood."
His voice was low and venomous, his gaze sharpened, voice like ice.
"You think this is a negotiation?"
He tightened his grip on Lyriana's throat, his fingers crushing her neck. She coughed out blood.
"Give it, or she dies."
Draven just stared, not flinching, then raised his hand holding the Spirit Egg. He said,
"If you do that again, I'll do the same to the rock. Let's see if it'll be able to… piece itself back together."
He tilted his head, eyes locked on Ivan.
"Do you really wanna find out which of them breaks for good?"
Ivan was quiet as red Mana slowly surged—thick and pulsing—out of his body. He said,
"You dare threaten me, brat? Do you believe I can kill you before you realize what's going on? Or do you think I dare not?"
Draven didn't flinch, gaze still sharp. He spoke, voice calm:
"Yeah. Maybe that might be the case. Maybe you could kill me. Maybe you could take the egg. But you seem to want it so badly—it must be worth at least some value to you.
So tell me—do you consider her life to be of equal value? Are you willing to take that risk?"
Ivan's fingers loosened an inch. Lyriana coughed and sagged, blood wet at her lips.
Ivan said,
"To think I'll fall to the threat of someone of inferior blood… disgusting."
He didn't change his face.
"Fine," he said flatly, glancing at her.
He continued:
"You live because I say so. Not because I'm merciful. Don't test me."
He swung sharply, tossing her towards them. Aldric moved, catching her.
He said, "Lyriana, are you ok?"
As she stood, steadying herself—her crushed neck already healed—she raised her hand, wiping the blood from her lips. She said,
"I'm fine."
Her burning gaze still fixed on Ivan.
He said,
"Brat. Now give it."
Draven stared at him, eyes sharp, as his grip tightened on his dagger. He thought, Can't hand over the damn rock. If I do, he won't have any more reason not to kill us. And if I hold on to it, he's going to surely attack to take it. But that's my only option. Either way, we are cooked right now.
Gaze sharp, he muttered,
"Listen, two of you. If you don't want to die, then focus.
Don't care what's the reason for your anger—my only priority right now is to get to my mother. Use blood magic. Whatever. Use everything you got. Go all out. We attack on my mark."
Ivan, looking at them, said,
"Brat. Don't test me. Give it. Now."