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Chapter 291: Visit

In her room after leaving Marquis' side, Valeria rested in the quiet, her thoughts a labyrinth of possibilities and uncertainties. Marquis Ventor's words lingered in her mind like echoes in a vast chamber, their implications weaving through her musings. She had excused herself with grace, but now, as she stared at the faint glow of the lamp on her bedside table, the weight of the situation bore down on her.

For reasons she could scarcely explain, her thoughts drifted to Lucavion. His infuriating smirk, his cavalier attitude—it all seemed to clash with the serious atmosphere that surrounded her. And yet, there was something grounding about his presence, a strange kind of clarity he brought, even amidst the chaos he seemed to thrive in.

Valeria sat up straighter in her chair, her fingers lightly drumming on the armrest. The thought of seeking out Lucavion had taken hold of her, persistent and unrelenting. Despite her initial annoyance, she couldn't deny the peculiar ease his presence often brought her—a reprieve from the weight of courtly games and veiled intentions.

'Yes, let's go and see him,' she thought decisively, rising to her feet. But then, she faltered.

'Where is he?'

The realization brought a faint frown to her lips. She hadn't the faintest idea of Lucavion's current whereabouts, a testament to his maddening tendency to come and go like a breeze—unpredictable and untrackable. Sighing softly, she reached for the small bell on her desk and gave it a gentle ring.

A maid appeared promptly, her expression calm and deferential. She curtsied lightly as she stepped into the room. "You rang, my lady?"

"Yes," Valeria said, keeping her tone composed. "I wish to see Lucavion. Could you find him for me?"

The maid's eyes flickered with a subtle knowing gleam, and her lips curved into a faint but unmistakable smile. "Of course, my lady," she replied smoothly. "In fact, I was informed that you might wish to do so. If you'll allow me, I can take you to him directly."

Valeria's brows rose slightly at the maid's words, but she kept her expression neutral. 'Informed?' she wondered, but chose not to question it aloud. Instead, she simply nodded. "Lead the way."

The maid curtsied again before turning on her heel, guiding Valeria through the grand hallways of the Ventor estate. The route was unfamiliar, winding through quieter corridors where the polished stone floors seemed to swallow their footsteps. They moved swiftly, and before long, the maid stopped in front of a door, turning to Valeria with a practiced bow.

"This is the room, my lady," she said. "If you require anything further, do not hesitate to call upon me."

Valeria inclined her head, dismissing the maid. As the servant retreated down the hall, Valeria turned her attention to the door. She raised her hand to knock, but something made her pause.

From behind the door came faint sounds—muffled voices, indistinct but unmistakably human. She tilted her head slightly, straining to make sense of the noises. The rustling of movement followed, accompanied by what could only be described as squirming.

Her hand froze mid-air. The noises weren't loud, but they carried an unusual energy, an almost chaotic rhythm that made her hesitate.

She took a step closer, her brows knitting together as she tried to discern the source of the commotion. The sounds grew a shade clearer—fragments of laughter, the scrape of a chair, and what sounded suspiciously like someone muttering under their breath.

Valeria's grip tightened slightly at her side. Her instincts, honed through years of training and experience, whispered caution. And yet, she couldn't quite bring herself to knock or open the door.

'What on earth is going on in there?' she wondered, her heart ticking faster despite her efforts to remain composed.

For now, she lingered outside, waiting, listening, and grappling with the strange blend of curiosity and apprehension that kept her rooted to the spot.

******

Valeria inhaled deeply, steadying herself as her gloved fingers hovered over the door handle. The chaotic sounds behind the door—laughter, rustling, and the occasional soft mutter—created an odd warmth in her chest. It was foreign, unwelcome, and yet impossible to ignore. Her frown deepened.

'Why does this bother me so much?' she thought, the question echoing through her mind. Yet she couldn't answer it. All she knew was that the thought of Lucavion smiling like that—laughing like that—with someone else felt… wrong.

Before she could second-guess herself further, Valeria straightened her back and pushed the door open, stepping inside with measured authority.

The room was cozy but far from neat. Lucavion lounged on a plush chair near the fire, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his signature smirk firmly in place. Beside him, the healer—graceful and serene—stood with her arms crossed, a playful smile teasing her lips.

The two turned toward Valeria as the door creaked open, their conversation halting mid-laugh. For a fleeting moment, Lucavion's smirk faltered as his gaze met Valeria's, her icy demeanor transforming the room's atmosphere in an instant.

"Ah, Valeria," Lucavion said smoothly, his voice light, though his sharp eyes studied her carefully. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit? Miss me already?"

Her gaze flicked to the healer, who offered a polite nod but stepped back, clearly sensing the tension in the air. "I didn't realize you were… entertaining company," Valeria replied, her tone clipped. She didn't glance at Lucavion, focusing instead on the healer as if assessing a potential threat.

The healer smiled, entirely unruffled. "I was just finishing here, my lady," she said gently. "Our charming Sword Demon insisted he needed my assistance. A touch dramatic, but he does keep things lively." Her tone was good-natured, but Valeria's chest tightened at the casual way she spoke of him.

"I see," Valeria said curtly, stepping further into the room. "Thank you for your services. I'll take it from here."

The healer's brows rose slightly, but she inclined her head gracefully. "Of course. I'll leave you two to talk." With that, she gathered her things and exited the room, her presence leaving a faint ripple of calm that Valeria refused to acknowledge.

The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was sharp and electric. Valeria turned her gaze to Lucavion, her eyes narrowed. He leaned back in his chair, entirely unbothered, watching her with the same maddeningly relaxed expression he always wore.

"Well?" Lucavion drawled, breaking the silence. "I assume you came here for a reason other than chasing my poor healer away. Or am I finally seeing a jealous side of our noble knight?"

Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she immediately stiffened, her voice colder than she intended. "Don't flatter yourself. I came to check on your condition after the last match. Clearly, you're doing just fine."

His smirk widened, and he tilted his head as if contemplating her words. "So concerned about me, Valeria? I'm touched." He paused, then leaned forward slightly, his tone dipping into something softer, almost teasingly intimate. "But tell me… was it really my health you were worried about? Or something else?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. Valeria's jaw clenched as she struggled to form a response. The truth—a truth she barely understood herself—gnawed at the edges of her carefully constructed walls.

"Bastard… That is why talking to you is a waste of time," Valeria hissed, her frustration bubbling to the surface as she crossed her arms. "You never stop provoking people."

Lucavion chuckled, his smirk unwavering. "What can I say? It's my charm. Though, I have to admit, your reactions are particularly entertaining."

She glared at him, her eyes flashing with irritation. "You're infuriating, you know that? Always twisting words, always smug. Do you ever take anything seriously?"

Lucavion leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her with that same maddeningly casual intensity. "I take plenty of things seriously, Valeria. I just happen to enjoy ruffling feathers—especially yours."

Valeria groaned softly, closing her eyes for a moment as she resisted the urge to say something she might regret. She had come here intending to check on him, to ensure he wasn't pushing himself too hard. But now, faced with his insufferable attitude, she felt her resolve unraveling.

"Why do I even bother?" she muttered under her breath, shaking her head as she turned toward the door. "I should have known better."

Lucavion's voice stopped her mid-step. "Wait."

It wasn't playful this time, nor was it mocking. His tone carried a weight that made her pause. She turned to face him, her brows knitting together as she caught the faintest shift in his expression—a softness that was so unlike him it caught her off guard.

"What now?" she asked, her voice quieter, almost hesitant.

His gaze met hers, steady and unflinching. "Stay," he said simply, the usual teasing edge absent from his voice. "You came all the way here. No sense in leaving so soon."

Valeria hesitated, her thoughts warring with the inexplicable pull she felt in that moment. He was still the same Lucavion—cocky, irreverent, maddeningly smug—but something in his eyes made her pause. There was a sincerity there, hidden beneath the layers of mockery and bravado, that she hadn't expected.

"I…" She faltered, unsure of what to say. A part of her wanted to leave, to regain her composure and escape the unsettling tension that had settled between them. But another part—a quiet, stubborn part she couldn't quite ignore—wanted to stay.

With a small sigh, she relented, stepping back toward the chair beside him. She sat down stiffly, her posture straight and guarded, as if bracing herself for whatever he might say next.

Lucavion's smirk returned, though it was softer now, less sharp. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Don't push your luck," Valeria replied sharply, though the faintest hint of color rose to her cheeks. She glanced away, focusing on the crackling fire as she fought to steady her breathing.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was different now—not sharp and electric, but warm and oddly comfortable. Lucavion leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on her profile as if trying to decipher her thoughts.

"You know," he said after a while, his tone quieter, "you don't always have to be so guarded. It's okay to just… be."

Valeria's eyes flicked to him, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. "And what would you know about that?" she asked, her voice softer than before.

Lucavion shrugged, his smirk turning into a small, genuine smile. "More than you think."

She studied him for a moment, her defenses wavering as she considered his words. And as the firelight danced across his face, illuminating the faint traces of weariness hidden beneath his usual bravado, Valeria felt the weight of her own guardedness begin to lift—if only just a little.

For now, she stayed.

Chapter 292: Visit (2)

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm, uneven glow across the room as Valeria shifted in her seat, her gaze slowly turning toward Lucavion. She hated the concern that was gnawing her heart, but the words escaped her lips before she could stop them.

"How is your body?" she asked, her tone measured, though a trace of genuine curiosity softening its edge.

Lucavion stretched lazily, his arms behind his head. His smirk reappeared. "It's well, all thanks to our dear healer. Miss… uh, what was her name again? Never got it, actually." He chuckled. "But she did a great job. Most of the pain is gone, though my core's still a bit shaky, though—needs a day or two, I'd guess."

Valeria nodded, her brow furrowing slightly. "You should've told me if you were in such a state. Fighting in that condition could've been reckless."

"Could've been?" Lucavion tilted his head, mock confusion lacing his voice. "I thought recklessness was part of my charm, wasn't it?"

Valeria shot him a withering look, but her focus quickly shifted, a memory from his last fight surfacing. "Those black flames you used… what are they? I've never seen anything like them."

Lucavion's smirk faded slightly, replaced by a contemplative expression. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "They're part of my mana accumulation art," he said simply, his voice unusually steady.

"I understand that much," Valeria tilted her head, her lips pressing into a thin line as she considered his answer. "But… there's something strange about them. Why are they so cold? It's… unnatural."

Lucavion chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Cold, huh? You're not the first one to say that. Most people expect the fire to burn, to sear. But my flames… they're different. They draw from a… different source."

"And that source is?" she pressed, her gaze steady.

"It is a….."

"It is a…" He paused, his smirk returning.

"Secret."

"You!"

Lucavion burst into laughter, warm and full-bodied, echoing through the room, shaking off the usual veneer of mockery. It sounded so genuine that Valeria blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His laughter filled the space between them, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he leaned back in his chair.

"Your face, Valeria," he managed while still in between chuckles, "absolutely priceless. I wish I could capture that look forever."

She scowled, arms crossing tightly over her chest. "You're insufferable."

"And yet," he teased, his grin widening, "here you are. So, go on. Guess."

Valeria narrowed her eyes, feeling the familiar mix of irritation and exasperation that always accompanied Lucavion's antics. Still, there was something oddly disarming about him in moments like these. She felt a faint tug of relaxation—a sense of ease that she couldn't quite put into words.

'Why do I feel like this around him?' she couldn't help but wonder. She knew that wasn't comfort to be exact. It was… soothing, maybe? She didn't know the right word, but whatever it was, it would leave her oddly at peace.

Shaking off the thought, Valeria straightened in her seat, her expression sharpening as she tried to focus. "Fine," she said briskly. "If you insist. A fire that's cold and… destructive." Her brows furrowed as she tried to piece the information together. "I don't know, Lucavion. How am I supposed to guess that?"

"Take your time," he replied, his tone dripping with amusement. "I'll wait."

She glared at him, her mind racing. It made no sense—flames that devour without heat, one that would chill instead of burn. No matter how she twisted the logic, her mind refused to settle into anything coherent. After letting out a frustrated sigh, she finally leaned back in her chair and waved her hands in defeat.

"I don't know," she admitted reluctantly. "How am I supposed to know something so ridiculous?"

Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something akin to genuine surprise. "Heh?" He leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "The great Valeria Olarion, admitting she doesn't know something? Never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Don't push your luck," she snapped, her cheeks tinged with the faintest blush. "I don't have the time to entertain your riddles."

"Relax, Valeria," Lucavion chuckled, leaning back with his usual ease. "I wasn't expecting you to figure it out. It's not exactly common knowledge. But," he added, his tone turning more contemplative, "I like that you tried."

She frowned at his words, her irritation giving way to a flicker of curiosity. "You like that I tried?"

He nodded, his grin softening. "Most people wouldn't bother. They'd brush it off, call it nonsense, or just pretend they already knew. But you? You actually thought it through. I respect that."

Valeria blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice, unsure how to respond, so she simply looked away, her gaze settling on the flickering flames in the hearth.

Lucavion leaned forward again, the usual playful glint in his eyes giving way to something quieter, more reflective. "My fire," he began, his voice lower now, "is something only I can wield in this world."

Valeria's eyes narrowed, skepticism immediately sharpening her tone. "What's that supposed to mean? You're just throwing cryptic nonsense at me now."

His smirk didn't falter, but there was a faint seriousness beneath it, a shadow of something deeper. "It means exactly what I said. My flames are the accumulation of two forces: [Life] and [Death]."

Her breath caught and confusion flickered across her face. "Life and death? What does that even mean?" She straightened in her seat, disbelief edging her tone. "You're talking as if you're some kind of… anomaly. Humans don't command death, Lucavion. That's black magic territory."

"Ah, black magic," he mused, tilting his head slightly as he studied her reaction. "You're not wrong—black magic does dabble in death energy. But what I do? It's nothing like that."

Valeria frowned, her thoughts racing to piece together his words. "Black magic doesn't harness death energy in the mage's core," she said slowly, her voice tinged with caution. "Because it's impossible to do so. Death mana is inherently incompatible with a living body—it can't be contained or cultivated. So whatever you're claiming doesn't make sense."

Lucavion chuckled softly, his sound almost resigned. "You're right again, in theory. Death mana isn't something a living being can control, at least not without paying a heavy price. But my flames… they're different."

"How different?" she pressed, her voice now sharper and a strange unease prickling at the back of her mind.

He leaned back, his gaze distant as he stared into the fire. "The flames are born from balance," he said quietly. "From the tension between life and death within me. Life provides the fuel, the foundation. Death offers the void, the consuming force. Together, they create something… unique."

Valeria stared at him, disbelief mingling with a rising sense of unease. His words defied every fundamental truth she'd been taught about mana, magic, and the human body. "That's impossible," she said firmly. "You can't just… balance life and death like that. It's not natural."

"Who said I'm natural?" Lucavion replied, his smirk returning, though it lacked its usual edge.

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. For the first time, she couldn't tell if he was joking. His gaze, steady and unflinching, seemed to challenge her, daring her to probe deeper.

"What are you?" she whispered, almost to herself. But even as the question slipped her lips, she wasn't sure whether she wanted the answer.

Lucavion's chuckle broke the heavy silence, warm and rich as he leaned further back. His smirk widened, now tinged with a playful edge. "What am I?" he echoed, the words lingering in the air. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "That, Valeria, is for you to discover."

Her breath hitched for a moment, the weight of their exchange still hanging over her. But as his playful tone registered, a wave of irritation swept through her. Her jaw tightened, and her narrowed eyes flashed with anger.

"You!" she snapped, sitting up straighter. "You're teasing me again, aren't you? I knew it! This whole ridiculous story about balancing life and death—it's just another one of your games."

Lucavion grinned, his amusement deepening. "Believe what you will, Lady Valeria. What you choose to believe is entirely up to you."

She opened her mouth to retort but found herself hesitating. Everything about his demeanor—the smirk, the tone, the casual shrug—screamed that he was toying with her. And yet… there was something in his earlier tone, a flicker of something too genuine, too heavy to be dismissed as a mere teasing.

Her hands clenched into fists on her lap, her frustration mounting. "If you're going to spout nonsense," she said sharply, "at least make it believable."

"Believable?" Lucavion arched an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Now, that's an interesting demand. But tell me, what counts as believable, Valeria? The limits of what you've seen? What you've been taught? Or something else entirely?"

His words struck a nerve, and Valeria clenched her teeth. "Don't lecture me," she snapped, though her voice wavered. Deep down, a small voice whispered that he wasn't entirely wrong.

Lucavion chuckled again, softer this time, as though he could sense the storm of doubt swirling within her. "Whether you believe me or not," he said lightly, "changes nothing. But here's a thought—sometimes, the truth isn't about what makes sense. Sometimes, it's about what feels right."

Valeria frowned as he leaned back in her chair, her thoughts churning. She wanted to dismiss his words, to write them off as yet another attempt to provoke her. But his calm, deliberate tone lingered in her thoughts, leaving her unsettled.

She wanted to believe that he was joking. She needed to believe it. And yet, a tiny part of her heart, treacherous and insistent, whispered that he wasn't.

But there was no way to prove it. No way to know for sure. And that, more than anything, made her blood boil.

"Bastard," she muttered under her breath, her gaze fixed firmly on the fire. But her tone lacked venom, and her thoughts a tangled mess. Lucavion, ever the enigma, simply smiled.

KNOCK!

Just then the sudden knock at the door cut the tension.

Chapter 293: Visit (3)

A sharp knock at the door interrupted the charged atmosphere between Valeria and Lucavion. The sound reverberated through the room, immediately drawing their attention. Valeria stiffened instinctively, her body tensing as her mind raced to assess the situation.

Lucavion, for his part, glanced toward the door, his smirk fading as he straightened in his chair. His posture shifted subtly, his relaxed demeanor giving way to one of cautious readiness.

The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside with an air of calm authority. Marquis Ventor, clad in a tailored coat that spoke of wealth and power, entered the room with measured steps. His gaze swept across the space before settling on Valeria, and then Lucavion.

"Ah," he began, his voice smooth yet commanding, "so this is where I find our two rising stars."

Valeria immediately rose to her feet, her movements deliberate and precise. She bowed slightly, her expression carefully neutral as she greeted him. "Marquis Ventor," she said, her tone even. "To what do we owe the honor?"

Lucavion stood as well, his posture casual yet respectful, though his sharp eyes didn't miss a single detail of the Marquis' presence. "You must be the famous Marquis Ventor," he said with a slight grin. "I'd say it's an honor, but I've learned to save that for when I know someone a little better."

Marquis Ventor's lips curved into a faint smile as he regarded Lucavion, clearly unperturbed by the man's boldness. "And you must be Lucavion, the so-called Sword Demon." His gaze shifted briefly to Valeria. "And, of course, Lady Valeria Olarion, whom I've had the privilege of meeting already."

Valeria inclined her head slightly, her expression composed. "Marquis," she replied, her tone calm. Though inwardly, she couldn't help but feel a subtle ripple of tension under his scrutinizing gaze.

Marquis Ventor's gaze swept the room once more, lingering briefly on Lucavion before he spoke again. "After all, Lucavion, you've made quite the name for yourself—and quite the scene, if I may say so. It isn't every day someone collapses after such an extraordinary match and ends up brought to my estate. It's only proper for the host to pay his respects."

Lucavion's smirk returned, though it was tempered by a glint of curiosity. "Marquis Ventor, you're too kind," he said, inclining his head. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness and, of course, for your hospitality. I have to admit, it's been… interesting waking up here. And your healer, Miss… uh…" He paused, scratching the back of his head as if searching for the name. "Miss Healer, I suppose? She's quite talented. Apparently, I managed to injure myself more than I thought, and her treatment worked wonders."

The Marquis' lips curved into an amused smile, his tone light. "Ah, I see you're referring to my wife, Nadoka. She is indeed talented."

And the moment Marquis mentioned that the healer was his wife…..

Well….

Cough!

With a dramatic sputter, he spat the water across the room, quickly setting the glass down as he tensed, his eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and alarm.

Marquis Ventor raised a brow, his expression unreadable as he observed Lucavion's sudden reaction. "Hmm?" he intoned, his tone light but questioning.

Lucavion quickly recovered—or tried to. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his trademark smirk faltering into something more awkward. "Ah, well, uh…" He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head as he avoided the Marquis' gaze. "I, uh, didn't realize she was your wife. That's… that's certainly something. Ahem. Wonderful lady. Very professional. Top-notch healer."

Valeria turned her head slowly toward Lucavion, her brows lifting in bemusement as she took in his rare display of unease. Her earlier tension was momentarily forgotten as she watched him squirm under the Marquis' calm scrutiny.

The Marquis, to his credit, didn't press the matter, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Indeed, she is all of those things," he said evenly. "It's good to know her efforts are appreciated."

Lucavion cleared his throat, nodding rapidly as he regained some semblance of composure. "Absolutely. Appreciated is an understatement."

As Marquis Ventor's words lingered in the air, Valeria's mind jolted back to the scene she had witnessed earlier. Her eyes widened slightly, betraying her shock. Wait... The muffled voices, the occasional laughter, and the healer—Nadoka? The woman who had just walked out of the room moments ago was the Marquis' wife?

Her thoughts spun wildly. What in the world was going on?

She turned to Lucavion, her gaze sharp and questioning. He caught her eye almost immediately and, without a word, raised a hand to his lips, gesturing subtly for her to stay silent.

Valeria clenched her jaw, her thoughts still racing, but she nodded slightly. She couldn't possibly bring it up now, not in front of Marquis Ventor. Whatever had transpired earlier, she would have to address it later—preferably when the Marquis wasn't standing right in front of them.

Completely unaware of the silent exchange—or perhaps choosing to ignore it—Marquis Ventor continued, his composed demeanor unshaken. "Once you've made a full recovery, Lucavion, I believe it would be prudent for us to have a proper discussion. There is much I would like to discuss with you, given the… remarkable impression you've made so far."

Lucavion's smirk returned, more controlled now, though Valeria could still detect the faint awkwardness lingering in his posture. "I'd be honored, Marquis Ventor. I've already received your invitation once before, and now that I'm here, how could I refuse?"

The Marquis inclined his head slightly, his expression satisfied. "Good. Then I will leave you to your rest for now. Lady Valeria, Lucavion," he said with a polite nod to each of them. With that, he turned and exited the room, his footsteps echoing softly down the hallway.

The moment the door clicked shut, Valeria turned to Lucavion, her arms crossed and her expression a storm of barely contained questions. "You—"

"Cough..."

Lucavion could only cough….

*****

Lucavion coughed awkwardly, raising a hand to his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, his usual confidence visibly shaken. "I… uh… It's not what it looked like," he said quickly, his voice unusually defensive. "I was just trying to tease her a little. You know, lighthearted fun. Who would've thought she was the Marquis' wife? If I'd known that, I wouldn't have dared even to try."

Valeria's eyes narrowed, suspicion and disbelief mingling in her gaze. "Just teasing? What kind of teasing was that?" she asked sharply, her tone laced with incredulity. "Touching her here and there?"

Lucavion blinked, clearly caught off guard by her accusation. "Touching?" he repeated, his brow furrowing. "I wasn't touching—"

"And the sounds," Valeria cut him off, her cheeks heating slightly as she continued, her voice quieter but no less pointed. "You were making quite a bit of noise. Laughing, muttering… squirming."

Her mind churned as the earlier scene played back in vivid, embarrassing detail. In her imagination, fueled by the muffled sounds and her own restless thoughts, she had conjured scenarios far beyond what had actually occurred. The idea of Lucavion behaving so boldly with the Marquis' wife had seemed almost plausible—after all, he was Lucavion.

But now, as he stared at her with a mixture of confusion and mild amusement, doubt began to creep in.

Lucavion rubbed the back of his neck, his smirk returning, though it was tinged with exasperation. "Valeria," he said dryly, "she was just examining my injuries. That's it. What else would it be?"

Valeria froze, the heat in her face intensifying as realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. She had… misunderstood. Terribly.

"Of course," she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible as she tried to suppress the embarrassment rising within her. "It's… that makes sense. Why would it be anything else?"

Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned her gaze toward the fire, desperate to avoid his piercing eyes. It's Lucavion, she reminded herself. Even he wouldn't… no, he couldn't possibly… Right?

The silence stretched for a moment before Lucavion's grin widened, a glint of mischief flashing in his eyes. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded her with a knowing look. "Heeeeeeh…" he drawled, drawing out the sound. "Valeria… What was going on in that mind of yours, hmm? Wanna share?"

Valeria's head snapped toward him, her face now fully red as she glared at him, equal parts mortified and furious. "Nothing," she snapped, her voice higher than usual as she struggled to maintain her composure. "Absolutely nothing."

Lucavion's chuckle was low and amused, the sound of someone thoroughly enjoying himself. "Nothing, huh? Sure didn't sound like 'nothing.' Come on, you can tell me. I'm dying to know."

Her fists clenched at her sides, and she shot him a glare so sharp it could have cut steel. "Lucavion," she growled, her tone carrying a warning.

"Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn't waver. "I'll drop it. For now."

Valeria exhaled sharply, still avoiding his gaze. She could feel his eyes on her, brimming with amusement, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Inside, though, her thoughts remained in chaos. I'll kill him later, she thought grimly, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips despite herself.

Chapter 294: Visit (4)

Lucavion leaned back in his chair, his teasing smirk softening as he studied Valeria. His eyes gleamed with curiosity, his amusement giving way to a more thoughtful expression. "So," he began, his tone casual but probing, "you've been busy before coming here, haven't you? I'm guessing you had a little chat with the Marquis?"

Valeria blinked, her momentary embarrassment fading as her expression shifted to something more composed. "Yes," she admitted, straightening her posture. "I did meet with Marquis Ventor. It was… an interesting conversation."

Lucavion tilted his head, his grin returning faintly. "Oh? Do tell. What kind of 'interesting' are we talking about? Did he shower you with praise, or was it something more… complicated?"

Valeria exhaled, her earlier irritation melting away as she realized she could speak freely here. "Both, actually," she said, her voice gaining energy. "The Marquis offered me an alliance."

Lucavion raised an eyebrow, visibly intrigued. "An alliance, huh? That's no small thing. What exactly does he want?"

She leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped loosely in her lap. "He sees value in my name and what I've achieved during the tournament. He believes that the Olarion legacy—combined with my abilities—could serve his goals."

Lucavion's grin widened, but there was a sharpness in his gaze that hinted at deeper thought. "Sounds flattering. But that guy doesn't seem like the type to hand out offers like that for free. What's his angle?"

"That's precisely what bothers me," Valeria replied, her tone shifting to one of skepticism. "He framed it as mutual benefit—strengthening his region, bridging divides between his territory and the central politics of the Empire. But there's something about the way he spoke… I can't shake the feeling that there's more to it."

Lucavion nodded slowly, his fingers drumming idly against the arm of his chair. "Smart of you to think that way."

Lucavion leaned back, his expression contemplative, though his characteristic smirk lingered. "You know, Valeria, you've been a noble your whole life," he began, his tone measured. "So you must understand better than most: ruling a territory efficiently requires a certain… shrewdness. That's doubly true at the level of a marquis. Whatever they appear to be on the surface, you can bet they've got layers of cunning underneath. Isn't that the case?"

Valeria nodded, her gaze steady. "That's exactly what I thought," she admitted, a flicker of tension leaving her posture. "But that only raises more questions."

Lucavion's smirk widened, and he rested his chin on his palm, leaning forward with an air of relaxed curiosity. "So what?" he prompted, his voice calm but probing. "Are you considering his offer? Or is this just weighing on your mind because it doesn't add up?"

Valeria frowned slightly, her hands tightening in her lap. "Both," she said after a pause. "The offer itself is tempting, I won't deny that. But it feels too convenient, too perfectly aligned with my current situation. I can't shake the feeling that I'd be walking into a trap."

Lucavion tilted his head, his gaze sharp despite the casual tilt of his mouth. "That's fair. But if it's so perfectly timed, don't you think it's worth digging into why?" He let the question hang in the air, his eyes glinting with intrigue.

Valeria studied him, her expression unreadable, before finally speaking. "Are you suggesting I entertain the idea just to see what his endgame is?"

Lucavion shrugged lightly, the glimmer of amusement in his eyes never dimming. "I'm saying, if you're playing the game anyway, you might as well learn the rules as you go. Marquis Ventor's a player, Valeria. That means he'll make a move whether you like it or not. The question is—how are you going to respond?"

Valeria repeated his words slowly, her brow furrowing as if trying to decipher a riddle. "Learn the rules as you go… What is this guy even saying?" Her voice carried a mix of skepticism and exasperation, her disbelief plain on her face.

Lucavion, unbothered, leaned further back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. "It's just something to think about," he said smoothly. "Actually, it reminds me of this book I read once."

Valeria's eyebrows rose. "A book?" she echoed, her tone tinged with surprise.

"Yes, a book," Lucavion replied, his smirk widening slightly at her reaction. "It was about a group of people trying to expand their influence. See, they were from the north—cold, isolated, and far from the trade routes that connected most of the wealthier regions. They needed access to the warm seas to open up trading routes and grow their power. But the catch? To get there, they had to deal with everyone in their way."

Valeria's eyes narrowed, intrigued despite herself. "And I suppose they were blocked at every turn."

"Exactly," Lucavion said, his voice carrying a faint edge of satisfaction. "Because no one wanted a big player with no strings attached suddenly swimming in their waters, so to speak. It was a constant game of negotiation, alliances, and backstabbing. Sound familiar?"

Valeria sat back, the gears in her mind visibly turning. Marquis Ventor's consistent absence from central politics suddenly seemed less like disinterest and more like strategy. Could it be that his influence, while significant, was limited by some unseen barrier? A geographical disadvantage, perhaps?

Her gaze sharpened, and she leaned forward slightly. "I always thought the Marquis stayed out of central politics because he didn't want to get involved. But if he's trying to build connections now… what if it's not by choice? What if he's forced to act because he needs something—something he can't achieve on his own?"

Lucavion's grin widened as he watched the realization dawn on her. "Now you're catching on," he said with a faint chuckle. "If you think about it, his offer to you might be less about what you bring to the table and more about what doors you can open for him."

Valeria's eyes darkened, her mind racing. "And if that's true… then the question isn't just what he wants from me. It's why he needs me now, of all times."

Lucavion's gaze gleamed with approval. "Exactly," he said. "So, Valeria, what's the next move?"

********

Valeria sat alone in her room, the flickering light of the lantern casting long shadows across the stone walls. The air was still, save for the occasional crackle of the flame, but her mind was anything but quiet. She rested her chin on her hand, her other hand absently tracing the carved edge of the desk in front of her as Lucavion's words replayed in her mind.

'What's the next move?' she thought, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She stood abruptly, pacing the room as if the motion could help untangle the knot of thoughts tightening in her chest. The words she had spoken earlier echoed faintly, as if mocking her uncertainty.

'What if he's forced to act because he needs something… something he can't achieve on his own?'

She paused by the window, gazing out at the city of Andelheim sprawled below, its lights twinkling like distant stars. The streets were quieter now, the festive buzz of the day giving way to the hum of nightfall. Yet her mind raced, refusing to find peace.

'If Marquis Ventor's territory has limits, why would he approach me now?' she wondered, gripping the windowsill tightly. 'I've only just begun to make a name for myself. My family's legacy, the Olarion name, might carry some weight, but there are others with far more influence and power. Why me?'

Her gaze flicked back toward the desk where a map of the region lay unfurled, corners pinned down by the weight of her sword. She crossed the room, her steps measured, and studied the layout. Her finger hovered over the Marquis' lands, tracing the borders of his region.

'Geographical disadvantage,' she mused, her thoughts aligning with Lucavion's example. 'If Ventor's lands are isolated from major trade routes, then his ability to wield influence in the central politics of the Empire would be severely limited. But an alliance with someone like me… that could change everything.'

She leaned forward, her voice a quiet murmur as if voicing her thoughts aloud could solidify them. "If I agreed, he could leverage my name, my connections… perhaps even my skills in battle." Her lips pressed together. "But in return, what would I gain? A share in his ambitions? Or would I just be a pawn in his larger game?"

The question hung heavy in the air as she stepped back, arms crossing tightly over her chest. She closed her eyes, and her mind conjured Lucavion's face, his knowing grin as he'd said those words: "If you're playing the game anyway, you might as well learn the rules as you go."

'Learn the rules as I go,' she thought bitterly. 'That's easy for him to say. He acts like the game doesn't touch him, like he can just watch from the sidelines and laugh. But me? If I make the wrong move, it won't just be my pride at stake—it'll be everything.'

Her fingers curled into fists as frustration bubbled to the surface. "What's the next move?" she muttered under her breath. The question gnawed at her, relentless.

Finally, she sank into the chair by the desk, her hands resting heavily on its surface. 'If he's truly desperate, then I have leverage,' she reasoned, her thoughts sharpening.

As Valeria sat in the stillness of her room, her fingers drumming lightly on the edge of the desk, another memory surfaced unbidden. It was something Lucavion had said just before she'd left their earlier conversation, his tone light, almost dismissive, but the words had stuck with her nonetheless.

"Tomorrow, come with me when I'm talking. You'll see some crazy stuff."

She let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in her chair as her gaze drifted to the ceiling. 'This guy…' she thought, pinching the bridge of her nose. 'He really is a madman.'

The audacity of his words was almost enough to make her scoff aloud. 'Crazy stuff,' she repeated in her mind, her tone laced with exasperation. 'What does that even mean? And why does he say it like he knows exactly how I'll react?'

But as much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her—a small, insistent part—that was curious. Lucavion's confidence, his unshakable ease in the face of chaos, wasn't something she could ignore. It was infuriating, yes, but also… intriguing.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she tapped her fingers against the desk. 'Why does he always seem so sure of himself? It's like nothing rattles him like he's already five steps ahead of everyone else.' The memory of his grin flashed in her mind, that ever-present glint of amusement in his eyes as he had leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Valeria huffed softly, shaking her head. "Madman," she muttered aloud, her voice tinged with reluctant amusement.

Still, a seed of curiosity took root. What did he plan to show her tomorrow? She wanted to dismiss it as just another one of his ploys to amuse himself at her expense, but deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that Lucavion had a knack for turning the mundane into something extraordinary—sometimes infuriatingly so.

'Fine,' she thought, her lips pressing into a firm line. 'I'll go. But only because I want to see what he's up to, not because he told me to.'

She straightened, her resolve hardening.

Chapter 295: Nothing

I leaned back against the headboard, the soft hum of the room's mana-infused lanterns filling the silence. The faint flicker of light reflected on the polished stone walls, casting long, dancing shadows. My body ached faintly from the aftermath of the match, but nothing compared to the mental exhaustion of today's events. Vitaliara's presence stirred in my mind, a sharp yet familiar sensation, her tone immediately cutting through the stillness.

[Crazy stuff, you said?] her voice chimed, laced with curiosity and a hint of reprimand. [I know your definition of 'crazy' tends to leave collateral damage. Care to elaborate?]

A small smile tugged at my lips as I stared at the ceiling, tracing invisible patterns in the smooth stone. 'Collateral damage? You wound me, Vitaliara. When have my plans ever gone astray?'

[Do you want the full list alphabetically or chronologically?] she retorted, her tone dry but teasing.

I chuckled under my breath, rubbing the back of my neck. 'Fair point.'

Her presence pressed a little closer, her curiosity now sharper. [So, what are you planning, exactly? You've been playing your cards close to the chest lately, even with me. That's unusual.]

I sighed, shifting to sit up straighter. 'I wasn't lying earlier when I said Valeria would see something interesting tomorrow. But before we get to that… tell me, Vitaliara, why do you think Marquis Ventor is organizing a tournament like this?'

She went quiet for a moment, and I could feel her calculating, her thoughts flickering like distant stars. [An obvious answer would be reputation. Martial tournaments are grand, eye-catching, and they bolster regional pride. A way to secure his legacy, perhaps?] Her tone was probing, waiting for my response.

I shook my head slightly, smirking. 'A good surface-level guess, but no. Ventor's too shrewd for something as simple as fame. He's not just trying to cement his name; he's laying a foundation for something much bigger.'

[Enlighten me, then, oh omniscient one,] she quipped, though her genuine interest was palpable beneath the sarcasm.

'Think about it,' I began, tilting my head as I let the thoughts flow. 'A martial tournament like this isn't just about entertainment. It's a showcase. Every participant, every clash of blades, every drop of blood spilled in the arena is a statement—a declaration of strength, both for the fighters and the host. And strength, in a place like this, is currency.'

[Currency for what?] Vitaliara pressed, her tone sharpening.

'Leverage,' I answered, my tone soft but certain. 'Ventor isn't hosting this tournament just to play patron to aspiring warriors. He's curating an army—or at least, the alliances to form one. He's using this stage to assess potential allies and threats alike, to bind those who shine here to him with gratitude or obligation. Every offer he makes, every hand he shakes, is a thread he's weaving into his web.'

I paused, letting the weight of my words settle. 'The man's territory is isolated, away from the major power centers of the Empire. For years, he's stayed out of the central political stage,' I continued, my voice dropping slightly, the weight of my thoughts sharpening the air. 'But something must have changed. Ventor isn't the type to act without cause. He didn't wake up one morning and decide to invite the attention of every noble and sect in the region. No, there's a reason behind this sudden shift, something pressing enough to force his hand.'

[And that reason would be?] Vitaliara asked, her tone now serious, the teasing edge momentarily absent.

I leaned forward slightly, resting my forearms on my knees as my fingers interlocked. 'The war,' I said simply. 'The war between the Arcanis Empire and the Loria Empire. Ventor's territory borders Loria directly—it's one of the Empire's outermost regions. A buffer zone, really.'

[Go on,] Vitaliara prompted, though I could already feel her starting to piece it together.

'Think about it,' I said, the words coming faster now. 'With the war heating up, the central nobles are undoubtedly looking for ways to bolster their forces. And what better way than to lean on someone like Ventor? A Marquis with significant resources, territory, and influence, but who's conveniently distant from the capital's political games?'

[So they've been leaning on him,] she surmised, her voice tinged with understanding. [Overextending his resources, perhaps?]

I nodded, my smirk fading into something sharper. 'Exactly. They're not just requesting his support—they're likely demanding it. Troops, supplies, anything they can siphon off to fuel the war effort. It wouldn't be surprising if they're using the war as an excuse to wear him down, to strip his region of its autonomy bit by bit.'

[And Ventor's not the type to sit back and let himself be drained,] Vitaliara added, her voice carrying a faint edge of admiration. [He's pushing back.]

'He must have sensed it,' I said, my tone laced with certainty. 'The moment he became a silent player, the central nobles saw him as easy prey. Isolation might have kept him safe for a time, but in their eyes, it also made him vulnerable. And now, he's a target, with the war ending.'

[So the tournament is his counter,] Vitaliara concluded, her tone thoughtful. [A way to display his strength and secure alliances, all while testing the waters of the political stage.]

'Partially,' I said, my tone steady as I leaned back against the headboard. 'He wants to gather talented individuals under his wing, people who can cover any vulnerabilities his region might face. It's a smart move, really. He's showcasing the wellness of his territory while simultaneously building a safety net against future threats. A well-crafted illusion of strength and prosperity.'

[But,] Vitaliara began, her tone sharp with curiosity, [this tournament… it's different now, isn't it?]

I smirked, my fingers tapping lightly against my knee. 'Of course it is. Because of me.'

[Because of you?] she echoed, amusement lacing her voice. [Is that the Sword Demon's hubris speaking, or is there something more to this claim?]

'Oh, it's not hubris,' I replied, my smirk deepening. 'It's reality. By targeting the Cloud Heavens Sect the way I did, I forced Ventor's hand. He can't remain neutral anymore—not after I called them out in such a public way. The Sect's reputation is on the line, and so is his, by association. Ventor's careful balancing act is crumbling, thanks to me.'

[And that side…?] Vitaliara prompted, leaving the question hanging.

I tilted my head, letting a slow exhale escape my lips. 'We'll see tomorrow,' I said simply, my voice carrying a weight of certainty. 'But one way or another, Ventor will have to act. That's the game he's chosen to play, and I'm more than happy to tip the scales.'

Silence stretched between us for a moment, though I could feel Vitaliara's thoughts swirling, her curiosity and wariness blending into one. [You're not just stirring the pot for the fun of it, are you?] she asked finally, her tone quieter now, more probing.

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I let my thoughts drift inward, to what I knew about Marquis Ventor and the story surrounding him. In the novel, his struggles were a footnote—a side story woven into Valeria's journey. A noble under immense pressure from the central aristocracy, his need for talent had been mentioned briefly, almost as an afterthought. His ultimate fate had been left unresolved, forgotten amidst the chaos of larger arcs.

'Not this time,' I thought, my gaze sharpening. 'This time, things are different. Ventor isn't just some background character to be discarded when the main story moves on. He's a player on the board now, and I intend to see how his story unfolds.'

Of course, I wasn't about to share this with Vitaliara. She didn't need to know the extent of what I remembered—or what I planned. Some pieces of the game were better left unspoken, their importance revealed only when the time was right.

'Ventor's move tomorrow will tell me everything I need to know,' I thought, my smirk returning. 'And once I see where he stands, I'll decide whether to push him further—or let him fall.'

[You're keeping secrets again,] Vitaliara remarked lightly, though there was no real accusation in her tone. [Fine. I'll trust that whatever you're doing won't blow up in your face.]

'Trust me, Vitaliara,' I thought, though my tone remained wry even in my mind. 'If something does blow up, I'll make sure it's spectacular.'

She sighed, exasperated but resigned. [You're impossible, Lucavion.]

I closed my eyes, letting the faint hum of the mana lanterns soothe the quiet tension in the room. 'Impossible, maybe,' I murmured, the edges of my thoughts curling into a grin. 'But isn't that what makes it fun?'

********

"What?"

And now standing before the man himself, I could see his exasperated face.

'Hehe…..'

Well we were just beginning.