[Blood arts] gives you total control of the target's body through the blood. You can heat it up, turn it cold or pull him up off the ground. I had tried it on some maids and even on myself when I thought I could use it for flight or levitation. It felt as if my blood cells were being violently yanked to a pce they vehemently resisted against, inflicting a pain that transcended mere agony. And Aleksander, writhing in torment, dispyed every sign of that excruciating suffering.

  "You dare!" The voice resonated with a supernatural boom, shattering hundreds of drink gsses and eliciting audible yelps from the startled crowd. It even fractured a few chandeliers above, showering the area with falling crystals.

  As the crowd parted to reveal Ulric Von Hohenberg , a massive, rapidly approaching fiery ball targeted me. I had my invisible shield on so I kept my composure, it was vital I do, but out of nowhere Vojnka jumped out and blocked the fire ball before it could reach me.

  The fireball spread out in multiple directions, and I saw some go straight at a woman in the crowd, who quickly dispelled it with an elegance and quickness I couldn't fathom.

  Mustapha and Vojnka positioned themselves at opposite ends, their backs turned to me, each activating their shields in a defensive stance. Vojnka's shield, notably rger, likely due to her imposing size, stood as a striking and distinct piece. The shields, a translucent light red AI like screen, shaped in the form of a round shield with a meticulously detailed bck dragon etched upon it. There are simir texts like those from a Grimoire swirling in three lines of expansive circles on the shield but I couldn't read them.

  Ulric's countenance was a seething cauldron of rage, his features twisted in a ferocious dispy of anger. His face was flushed, his eyes abze with fury, and his brow furrowed deeply.The music pying in the back ground had stopped and the atmosphere was charged with tension, the winds outside howling like harbingers of an impending tempest. A couple of crystal chandeliers shattered again, their shards cascading from the ceiling. Winds were bellowing like signs of a major storm. One or two crystal chandeliers crashed from the ceiling.

  I subtly scanned my surroundings without turning my head, maintaining an appearance of indifference.

  "Are you certain that attack will go through before--" My fingers tightened their grip, and Aleksander, still suspended in mid-air, released a harrowing, agonized scream.

  Ulric cast a gnce at his son then back at me, his voice stern. "...put him down"

  "Who?" I asked, feigning confusion then looked at his son. "This filth?"

  I opened my fingers wide, causing his body to stretch abruptly. His clothes tore, and his bare skin suffered cerations. Blood welled from the multiple gashes on his face and exposed flesh.

  "Your trash never should have id hands on me" I said, then hurled the young man at his father. He nded with a resounding thud at Ulric's feet, letting out a painful grunt. "He is lucky I have respect for the house of Al-Hashem"

  An elderly woman, elegantly dressed in party attire, swiftly rushed to the injured noble with surprising agility. She helped him sit up from the ground and began pouring a green liquid from a vial down his throat while his father and I were locked in an intense icy staredown.

  He has better self control than I thought. I can see he is holding back and I know it is not because of me, or his son.

  "That's enough" came the voice of King Karim. Heads turn to face the direction of his voice, but not me or Ulric.

  "A word, King Daran?"

  I teared my gaze from Ulric to the king, then back at Ulric one more time.

  "I'm sure we will meet again soon" I smiled, and walked past him to King Karim.

  Maybe he will take the bait, maybe not.

  ┌─────── ? ───────┐

  The atmosphere in the grand castle hall gradually shifted back to a facade of normality, as if the recent dramatic confrontation had been nothing more than a passing gust of wind. Noble guests resumed their conversations, their ughter mingling with the soothing background music once more.

  In the midst of this sembnce of normalcy, Aleksander was assisted out of the hall by two Mittelreich's knights, with his father, Ulric, leading the way.

  Is it possible she's the only one that noticed? Amara saw it happened. Unlike everybody else who had attention on other pces, she had hers on him all through. She expected so much but was disappointed. So disappointed that she developed instant hatred for him. Until it happened.

  Amara watched her father lead the way, presumably to a private room upstairs, with the young Drakoria king following closely behind, dispying an unwavering confidence. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed the formidable Vojnka calmly making her way through the shifting crowd, seemingly unbothered by her King's absence. Determined to catch up with her, Amara gracefully maneuvered through the moving guests.

  As she trailed behind the savage, Amara saw her picked up a partially eaten roasted mb shank from the base of a pilr, as if she were the one who had left it there. With casual nonchance, she brought the succulent meat to her lips, tearing off a hearty chunk as she strolled toward the hall's exit.

  Amara eventually made her way out of the hall after Vojnka and found the savage warrior sitting casually on the castle stairs, voraciously devouring a piece of meat. Vojnka's massive battle axe rested on the ground beside her. Amara stood at the top of the staircase, watching her for a moment before she began to descend and approach the savage.

  As Amara stood before Vojnka, the warrior remained engrossed in her meal, paying no attention to the noblewoman's presence. She continued to devour the meat with unwavering focus, seemingly oblivious to Amara's arrival.

  "That was no sorcery," Amara stated bluntly, getting straight to the point.

  "What?" the Savage woman replied, her mouth still partially filled with food, as she raised her gaze to Amara.

  "Your king?" Amara continued, undeterred by the rudeness. "I thought he was a witch, but that was no spell." She raised her left hand, and with a finger on her right hand, she tapped the bracelet adorned with the red ruby stone. "I can tell."

  The savage stared at Amara for a moment then went back to eating.

  She probably doesn't even understand what she was talking about.

  Amara settled down beside the savage, her gaze fixed on the full moon.

  Maybe this is it? Finally?