CHAPTER 139: WHO ARE YOU?

[: 3rd POV :]

As Jivian stared at Melira, the Empress who commanded nations with her very presence, his lips curved into a slow, sinister smile.

The light of the chandeliers reflected in his eyes, glinting with the darkness of hidden intentions.

He watched every movement she made, every delicate motion of her fingers as they traced the stem of her wine glass.

’Come on... a little bit more...’ he thought, heart pounding with excitement and malicious glee.

The soft music and laughter around them felt distant, meaningless.

His entire world narrowed to that single moment, the moment the Empress of Humanity would lift the glass to her lips and unknowingly seal her fate.

The House of Valcroft was renowned across the continents for its mastery over soul enchantment and perception arts.

They could twist emotions, manipulate spirits, and shatter minds with a mere whisper of mana.

But Jivian was no ordinary member of that bloodline, he was the most gifted prodigy born to his house once in evry few generations.

His abilities had long surpassed the mediocre threshold, and even among the nobles of great power, he was feared.

His bloodline was S-Rank, his physique was blessed by divine mana, his class had evolved past Epic tier, but what made him truly monstrous was his innate ability that was unknown to others.

[: Soul Terror (Mythic) :]

A power that allowed its wielder to control and enslave the very soul of another being.

To mark their essence, to chain their will.

Once the mark was placed, their fate was sealed.

That was the plan and the family’s goal.

By clinking his glass with hers, he had already activated the mark.

A nearly invisible thread of mana weaved itself through the rim of the wine glass, embedding a spiritual symbol so faint that even most high rankers would fail to detect it.

All that was left was for her lips to touch the glass.

And once she drank, her soul would belong to him.

’Just a sip,’ he thought with a wicked smile.

’And soon, you’ll be mine, my dear empress...’

His heart raced, his breath trembled with anticipation.

He could almost see it, the image of her kneeling before him, eyes devoid of defiance, her will shattered, her divine aura bent under his control.

The thought alone made him shiver.

His tongue ran across his lips in hunger, as if savoring the taste of victory yet to come.

After all, Melira was a woman of legendary beauty, graceful, regal, untouchable.

A symbol of strength and beauty.

To bring her down, to make her yield, would be the ultimate triumph.

The kind of victory that would elevate his name to eternity.

But what Jivian failed to understand was that he was staring into the abyss of his own destruction.

Melira, the Empress, was not blind to his schemes.

Her years of experience had long sharpened her intuition beyond mortal perception.

From the very moment their glasses met, she had felt the subtle ripple in the flow of mana, the unnatural vibration beneath the surface of her drink.

Her eyes flickered faintly with light for an instant, unseen by all except perhaps the rulers themselves.

’So that’s your game,’ she thought, concealing her amusement behind a gentle smile.

’You truly think I wouldn’t notice?’

The Empress, after all, was no fool.

Some of her abilities allowed her to perceive even the smallest distortions of mana, poison, or deceit that lingered in her surroundings.

To her, Jivian’s skills was like a child’s play.

And yet, she said nothing.

She raised the glass gracefully, her fingers steady, her expression serene, pretending not to notice.

Her eyes, however, never left Jivian’s.

’Let’s see how far you’re willing to go,’ she mused silently.

The nobles around them continued their chatter, unaware that beneath the glittering surface of the ballroom, a silent battle of wills had already begun.

And Jivian... oblivious to the trap he had just walked into, leaned forward slightly, his smile widening in triumphz unaware that the Empress he sought to enslave was already watching him with quiet, knowing disdain.

In that moment, Melira’s eyes softened not in fear, but in pity.

Just as Melira lifted the glass to her lips, the moment froze.

A hand, firm, steady, and strangely familiar, gently grasped her wrist.

"I believe you shouldn’t drink that, Empress."

The voice was young yet carried an unmistakable weight of authority, deep, calm, and layered with a quiet power that silenced the air around them.

The nobles nearby blinked in confusion as a cloaked figure materialized beside the Empress, seemingly out of nowhere.

The faint shimmer of mana faded from the air where he had stood a heartbeat ago.

Melira’s eyes widened slightly.

Even she hadn’t sensed his presence before he appeared, a feat nearly impossible within her palace.

For a brief moment, her heart stirred with something she couldn’t name.

’Why his presence feels so familiar...?’ She thought.

But before she could speak, a furious snarl shattered the fragile silence.

"Who the hell are youand what the hell do you think you’re doing!?"

Jivian roared, his polite mask cracking into rage.

The veins in his temple bulged as he slammed his glass down, wine spilling over the marble floor like spilled blood.

He had been so close.

Victory, his perfect plan was just within reach, and now, this cloaked stranger had destroyed everything.

The music stopped.

Conversations died mid-sentence.

Every noble turned toward the source of the commotion.

The stranger tilted his head slightly, his tone calm but cutting as a blade.

"What am I doing?" he repeated softly.

"No. The real question is, what are you doing, Jivian Valcroft?"

His voice dropped lower, cold and deliberate.

"What exactly were you planning to do to the Empress?"

The tension thickened instantly.

Murmurs rippled through the hall like waves.

Jivian’s eyes darted around nervously.

"W–What nonsense are you talking about? I was simply making a toast!"

But his voice trembled.

The cloaked figure took a single step forward.

The faintest glint of violet shone from beneath his hood, piercing through the dim hall like twin shards of starlight.

"A toast," the boy said slowly, his tone quiet yet heavy with restrained fury.

"Then why does her glass carry a some kind of mark, one that couldn’t be seen by naked eyes?"

Jivian’s face drained of color.

He stumbled a step back, horror flickering across his expression.

’How... how could he possibly know?!’

Across the hall, Victor, Luke, and Maiya instinctively moved to intervene but Melira raised her hand slightly, signaling them to stop.

Her gaze, calm yet unreadable, remained fixed on the hooded boy.

She could feel it now, an energy that resonated deep in her soul.

The mana surrounding him wasn’t just powerful.

It was familiar.

Jivian’s voice cracked, his arrogance faltering.

"Y-You’re bluffing! You don’t know what you’re talking about!"

The boy’s head lifted slightly, and for a heartbeat, his hood shifted revealing the faint shimmer of silver hair and a pair of glowing violet eyes that burned with divine intensity.

Jivian froze.

The moment their gazes met, his breath hitched.

It felt as if the air itself had been ripped away.

The young man’s eyes were not human, they were endless, bottomless, the gaze of something that had walked through death and returned unchanged.

Melira’s breath caught in her throat.

’Those eyes...’

’No... it can’t be...’ she thought, her heart suddenly racing.

To everyone else, the stranger’s stare was merely unsettling.

But to Jivian, it was a nightmare.

When he looked into those violet eyes, he saw nothing but an abyss without end.

A depth that devoured his courage, stripped his arrogance, and whispered only one truth into his trembling soul.

He wasn’t the predator here.

He was prey.

Jivian’s pulse quickened as the air grew heavy around him.

The stares of the nobles, the silence that followed, and the faint tension radiating from the cloaked youth, all of it gnawed at his pride.

But rather than submit, he clung to arrogance as his last shield.

"Ha... ha! Ridiculous!"

Jivian forced out a laugh, though it cracked halfway through.

"What nonsense are you spouting, boy? To accuse me, a noble and the heir of the House of Valcroft, of such blasphemy before the Empress?"

"Do you have any idea what that means!?"

The nobles murmured in unease.

The Valcroft House was one of the most powerful noble known for its spiritual prowess, a family feared and respected across the continent.

Few dared to cross them.

But the cloaked boy stood unflinching, his violet eyes gleaming faintly beneath the hood.

His silence was heavier than any words could have been.

"I see..."

Jivian sneered, straightening his back as if regaining confidence.

"You think you can gain attention by making wild accusations, is that it?"

"Perhaps a desperate commoner hoping to stand out and earn attention from the Empress?"

His tone turned sharp, dripping with venom.

"Let me remind you, defaming a noble is a crime punishable by imprisonment, or worse"

"So I suggest you kneel right now and beg for forgiveness before I have the guards—"

"Are you done?"

The words were quiet, but the authority behind them silenced even the murmurs of the crowd.

Jivian faltered, the rest of his sentence dying in his throat.

The air had shifted, something cold and ancient rippled through it, brushing against the souls of everyone present.

The boy’s head lifted slightly, and for the first time, the flicker of mana pulsed around him.

The chandeliers above trembled.

Wine glasses rattled.

The music that had been stopped never dared to resume.

"Trying to lie your way out will only get you so far," the boy said softly.

"I’ve tried to give you the chance to speak truth."

"I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!"

Jivian snapped, though sweat beaded down his forehead.

"You’re mad! Guards, arrest—!"

The boy’s eyes narrowed.

"Silence."

That single word carried no shout, no visible burst of power, yet the entire hall shook.

The air itself compressed, and for a brief moment, everyone felt the pressure of an unseen force pressing against their chests.

Jivian froze mid-breath.

His lips parted, but no sound came out.

He tried again, panic flickering across his face.

Nothing.

His throat strained, veins bulged, but not even a whisper escaped him.

His eyes widened in horror as he clawed at his neck, as if something invisible was holding him still.

A wave of gasps erupted through the nobles.

"W–What just happened!?"

"Did he curse him!?"

"That boy... who is he!?"

Guards instinctively stepped forward, but stopped when Melira raised her hand.

Her expression was calm, but her gaze was sharp and calculating.

The rulers on the balcony exchanged glances, Victor’s eyes narrowed, Luke leaned forward in curiosity, and Maiya was ready to unleash her power, though Melira’s signal kept them still.

The boy, unmoving, spoke in a voice that seemed to echo in their minds rather than ears.

"It’s funny that you’re trying accuse me when the fact that you’re the one who wants to trap the Empress"

Jivian stumbled backward, trembling, his eyes filled with terror as he pointed helplessly at the cloaked figure, unable to utter a word.

"And for that I think it’s quite courageous"

"Quite courageous to seek your own death"

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Melira finally couldn’t help but ask.

"...You," she murmured softly.

"Just who are you?"

The boy slowly turned his gaze toward her. For an instant, their eyes met, and the world seemed to still.

A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips beneath the shadow of his hood.