"I know him too well." Lizana smiled softly.
Ark tapped his throne; his eyes fixed on Asher. He already had some guesses—ones he wished wasn't the case.
Lizana walked closer, her eyes dilating before she spoke.
"The man standing before you is your father. Sorcerer King, Asher.
Arkel froze.
For a brief moment, the world seemed to stop moving.
The throne room, the mana in the air, even his own breathing—everything was suspended.
crack!
His grip tightened against the armrest. Slowly, his gaze glowed neon gold.
"…My father?" he repeated, voice low and uneven.
Then his lips curled—not into a smile, but a bitter sneer.
"So, you're him," Arkel let out a hallow laughed. "The man who vanished on us."
BOOOOM!
His mana surged outward, and the entire castle resonated in response. The whole city was designed so he could siphon its power at will, multiplying his capacity by thousands-fold.
