Lucavion forced a breath through his teeth, his body screaming under the crushing weight of the Duke’s mana.
Damn.
He had expected Thaddeus to be enraged, but this was something else. The sheer control in his presence—it wasn’t just raw power. It was the precision of a man who had honed his abilities to perfection, who could suffocate an opponent without lifting a finger.
Still—
Lucavion moved his hand, despite the pressure pinning him down. Slowly, deliberately, he tapped his fingers against his neck.
A silent message.
The Duke’s golden eyes flickered between him and Aeliana, unreadable, searching.
But Lucavion wasn’t looking at him anymore.
He was looking at her.
And Aeliana…
She was looking back.
“Father. Enough.”
Her voice was calm, firm. But Thaddeus did not immediately release his grip.
“Why?” His voice was still edged with suspicion. “You said he poisoned you.”
“That is right.”
The Duke’s eyes narrowed further. “Then why?”
Aeliana inhaled softly. Then—
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Her words were quiet, but final.
Lucavion, even in his half-strangled state, nearly smirked at that.
Oh, how infuriating.
The Duke stared at his daughter, something unreadable crossing his face, but before he could respond—
Aeliana moved.
She walked toward Lucavion, each step measured, unhurried. The distance between them vanished, and then—
She stood before him.
Close enough for him to feel the warmth of her presence, the faintest ember of her lingering anger. Your journey continues on My Virtual Library Empire
Then—
Her fingers brushed against his cheek.
Soft. Slow.
A sharp contrast to the weight of her glare.
“See…” she murmured, tilting her head slightly, her amber eyes gleaming with something just a touch too pleased.
“How nice you look when you shut that mouth of yours.”
Lucavion would have laughed—if he could breathe properly.
Instead, he let his gaze drag over her expression.
Oh.
Oh, she’s enjoying this.
And the Duke?
The Duke’s fatherly instincts slammed into him like a warhammer.
His golden eyes burned.
Because what the hell was this?
‘Sir….Please stop your crazy daughter….’
Lucavion didn’t dare say it aloud—he valued his life, after all—but gods, the thought burned through his head like a prayer.
Aeliana’s fingers were still lightly grazing his cheek, her smirk just small enough to seem innocent—but oh no, he saw it. The amusement flickering in her eyes, the quiet, calculated satisfaction in the way she stood between him and her father.
Oh, she was enjoying this.
What an absolute menace.
And worse—Thaddeus looked one second away from ripping his head off.
‘Great. Just great. I risk my life, save the lady, and now her father wants to crush my skull. No gratitude these days, huh?’
Before the Duke could unleash another wave of mana meant to turn Lucavion into paste, Aeliana turned toward him.
“Father,” she said, voice sharper this time.
A glare.
A full, unrestrained glare.
Not at Lucavion.
At Thaddeus.
For the first time in this entire exchange, the Duke hesitated.
Then—
Tsssssssssssssssk.
The crushing weight of his mana lifted.
Lucavion sucked in a breath, stumbling forward slightly as his lungs finally worked again.
“Haaah… Haaaah…” He leaned forward, bracing a hand on his knee, greedily taking in each breath.
‘Hell. This was worse than fighting the Kraken… No, wait, maybe not worse, but definitely in the top five.’
The silence in the room stretched, tense and unbroken—until Lucavion, between labored breaths, finally managed to rasp out—
“Why… do people like doing things… without listening?” He groaned, straightening with a wince, rolling his shoulders. “At least let me explain before you start—squeezing the life out of me.”
Thaddeus’ expression did not ease.
“How can you even explain that?” His voice was still edged with suspicion.
Lucavion exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before fixing the Duke with a tired, but pointed look.
“Mister Duke,” he started, tone slow, as if speaking to someone deeply unreasonable, “your daughter is standing here. Safe. Unharmed.”
A pause.
Then, he arched a brow, smirking just slightly despite himself.
“Do you really think that would be the case if I actually poisoned her for the sake of harming her?”
The Duke raised an eyebrow, his golden eyes flickering between Lucavion and his daughter.
And then—
Aeliana chuckled.
Not a loud laugh, not even a particularly obvious one, but it was there. A quiet, knowing sound that carried just the faintest hint of satisfaction.
“You get what you deserve,” she murmured, her smirk lingering as she stepped back.
Lucavion let out a slow, deep sigh, rolling his eyes.
“…Yeah, yeah…” He muttered, brushing a hand against his throat as if checking to make sure it was still intact. “I so enjoy nearly getting strangled for no reason. Truly, a wonderful day.”
Aeliana merely shrugged.
The Duke, however, was still watching him.
Lucavion straightened, shaking off the tension in his limbs, then exhaled. “In any case,” he said, shifting the conversation, “I had fought with the Kraken. And thanks to your daughter’s and my coupled efforts, the Kraken was defeated.”
Thaddeus’ brow furrowed slightly. “Thanks to her?”
“That is right.” Lucavion nodded. “If not for her acting against her own illness, I wouldn’t have been able to win against the Kraken.”
Silence.
The Duke’s gaze sharpened.
Ah.
That struck a nerve.
His expression didn’t change much, but Lucavion could see it—the shift. The way his posture tensed just slightly, the way his fingers curled at his sides.
Because that—
That was something he had not been expecting to hear.
“What does that mean?” The Duke’s voice was slower now, measured.
His golden eyes locked onto Lucavion’s, unrelenting.
“How,” he continued, voice dangerously even, “is the Kraken related to Aeliana?”
Lucavion smiled.
Not his usual smirk. Not the teasing, arrogant curve of his lips that he so often wielded like a weapon.
No.
This was something quieter. Something heavier.
“That…” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, his dark eyes gleaming, “is something that not many people know about.”
Thaddeus’ patience had already run thin.
“Speak.”
His voice was sharp. Absolute. He was done with the games. Done with the boy’s insufferable amusement at every turn.
Lucavion, however, remained unbothered.
Instead, he lifted a hand, gesturing slightly, as if to slow the conversation. Then—
“Duke,” he began, his tone casual but deliberate, “let me ask you something simple.”
A pause.
Then, his dark eyes locked onto Thaddeus’, the playful glint in them fading ever so slightly.
“Do you think,” Lucavion continued, voice quiet, smooth, “this world is the only place where life exists?”