As Livia stepped out of the governor's mansion, the air outside felt far lighter than the stifling atmosphere within. Yet, she could still feel the faint dampness in her palms. Even though the man she had faced was her so-called "father," she knew all too well that Edgar was no kind parent—he was the ruler of this city, a man of power, calculation, and unwavering control. More importantly, she had never once regarded him as her father.
She exhaled slowly, her gaze sweeping across the horizon, where the setting sun tinged the sky with a soft crimson glow. But there was no relief in her heart. She had won today's negotiation, but this was only the beginning. She was not Livia—she was Alia, a woman from the lower depths of society, forced to tread carefully. More than anyone, she understood the consequences of failure.
Raising her hand, she brushed her fingertips against the lingering moisture in her palm before lowering her arm, pushing all emotions deep inside. At this moment, she could not afford to show even the slightest weakness.
Not far away, Adrian stepped out of the mansion as well. He did not speak to Livia, only offering a slight nod in farewell before striding away in the direction of his responsibilities. His steps were firm, his shoulders subtly tense—there were still many matters demanding his attention, and he knew that right now, the most important thing was to fulfill his duties.
Livia watched his figure disappear down the street, an unshakable feeling settling in her chest. This battle for power was far from over. She needed to find every ally, every advantage she could grasp.
—
Inside the governor's council chamber, silence lingered for a moment. Edgar's gaze darkened slightly as it settled on the man sitting opposite him. His voice carried a trace of probing curiosity.
"I must admit, I didn't expect you to personally come here and stand by Livia's side. Ever since that incident, you've rarely left the military."
Though his tone was calm, his eyes held a hint of scrutiny. Allen had long maintained a low profile within the army, never interfering in political struggles. Yet today, he had appeared without hesitation, even going so far as to openly threaten Eryx in Edgar's presence. What exactly was he after?
Allen's expression remained unreadable. He merely curled his lips into a faint smile, his eyes gleaming with an unreadable glint.
"I don't want anything. I never had much ambition."
His words were nonchalant, but his tone carried a subtle undercurrent of something else.
After a brief pause, he turned his head slightly, gazing toward the door as if looking beyond it—toward something far in the distance, toward an uncertain future. His voice was low when he finally spoke again.
"But now… it seems I do."
Edgar's eyes narrowed slightly. His many years as governor had sharpened his instincts for danger, and at this moment, Allen's words stirred within him a faint, inexplicable sense of unease.
Before he could probe further, Allen's smile faded. His sharp gaze locked onto Edgar as he uttered coldly,
"Goodbye."
With that, he turned and strode toward the exit. His steps were resolute, each footfall firm and unwavering. Just before leaving, his voice sliced through the air like a blade.
"Pass a message to Eryx for me—if he dares to lay a hand on Livia, I will fight him to the death."
His tone was steady, carrying an unshakable finality. Without another word, he stepped out, his departure marked by an unrelenting sense of purpose.
—
Inside the governor's mansion, the air shifted almost imperceptibly in the wake of Allen's departure. Edgar stood still for a moment before slowly making his way to a corner of the room.
With a quiet press against a hidden panel on the wall, a concealed mechanism clicked into motion. A section of the wall silently slid open, revealing a secret passage leading downward.
In the dim glow of the passageway, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness.
Eryx leaned lazily against the entrance of the hidden chamber, the corner of his lips curled into a faint, almost amused smile. It was clear he had just listened to an entertaining performance. His gaze lingered on Edgar for a brief moment before his eyes narrowed slightly, his smirk deepening, though laced with an unmistakable chill.
"Interesting," he murmured, his voice carrying a note of both curiosity and thinly veiled displeasure.
His fingers idly tapped against the stone wall, as if lost in thought. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice dropping to a quiet, dangerous murmur.
"It seems someone thinks they can overturn the game."
His gaze darkened, the flickering light reflecting the cold glint in his eyes.