The floor of the Magic Tower was suffocatingly silent. Every flicker of candlelight on the polished walls seemed to still as Luca's saber pressed coldly against Gerald's throat. The man's breath hitched, his chest heaving shallowly as crimson drops of blood trailed down the blade, staining his immaculate collar.
Not a soul dared move.
The air was so tight that even the whispers of robes shifting were swallowed whole. All eyes locked on the boy with the crimson gaze, his expression carved in stone, rage radiating off him in waves.
"Luccaaaa!"
Seraphina's voice sliced through the silence like a bell in the dead of night. Her heels clattered across the marble floor as she rushed forward, her usually composed features twisted with alarm. She grabbed his wrist, her fingers trembling against his taut muscles.
"Don't." Her voice was firm, but her eyes softened. "Don't bother with him. If I wanted, I could have dealt with him easily. Don't dirty your hands on scum like this."
