"A Slaver?" Eliot echoed, his frown deepening.
"Yes, that's what that mark means. Someone who enslaves others. In the past, it was mostly royalty who awakened this ability—a gift often bestowed upon them by malevolent gods to whom they frequently made sacrifices," she explained.
Right now, Eliot sat beside her in a quiet, secluded part of the forest, sustaining himself solely on what remained of his mana reserves. Yes, once again his mana had been siphoned away to nearly nothing in just seconds of linking with the other girl. At this point, using his bloodline ability was no longer feasible—it would only get him killed in battle. He had to find a solution to this problem, because if he didn't, the slave seal itself might become completely unusable.
"Since you already bear that mark, it means you've enslaved someone," the girl continued, making Eliot's frown deepen even further. Just who was she, and why did she possess such extensive knowledge about all of this?
