Her forehead was drenched in cold sweat, strands of hair clinging messily to her skin. A thin line of blood trailed down from her pale neck, stark and eye-catching.
Yes.
At that moment, Ava finally admitted it.
She was afraid.
Truly afraid.
She didn't want to die like this.
"I… I will follow you."
Her voice trembled as she bit her lip hard, fists clenched until her nails dug into her palms. Tears shimmered in her eyes, refusing to fall.
"This is the consciousness young people should have," Ethan replied indifferently.
Around them, Pavilion of Heavenly Secrets had already turned into a dangerous ruin. Cracks spider-webbed across the walls, stone columns collapsed with dull crashes, and dust drifted through the air like ash from a funeral pyre.
Ethan stood up and turned his back to Ava, gazing toward the direction of the three great aristocratic families.
Behind him, Ava lowered her head.
For an instant—
A cruel, venomous light flashed through her beautiful eyes.
