After a long silence, a deep, soul-wrenching sigh broke the suffocating stillness.
"You are... absolutely right, Holy Daughter." Blair's voice had lost its previous reverence, leaving only a profound weariness and bitter honesty. He raised his head, his gray eyes no longer concealing the complexities within—regret, pain, and a belated, chilling awakening.
"We..." He paused, as if uttering these words required great strength, "...the Pureblood Families... once arrogantly believed ourselves to be born noble. We regarded our bloodline as the measure of all things, and knowledge as our exclusive preserve."
His gaze did not shy away from Julia's calm stare, as if forcing himself to confront that sugar-coated, sordid past.
"We built high walls, isolating the paths upward. We blinded ourselves with arrogance and prejudice, ignoring the burning desire for power and dignity, the same as ours, yet perhaps more pure and fervent, in those we called 'Muggles' beyond our walls."
