"Alaric Von Seraph, spare me your righteous posturing," Julian sneered. "In front of everyone, what right do you have to act superior to me?"
The arrogance and disdain in his voice were unmistakable. What Julian hated most was precisely Alaric Von Seraph's cold, detached manner.
He never understood how someone with such an aloof, unapproachable face could command so much respect.
"Julian, don't push this too far!" Sylvandria's body trembled as she spoke, a hint of firmness finally breaking through her gentle demeanor.
"Syl," Julian spat, eyes blazing with venom, "I once worshipped you like a goddess. Now? You're worthless to me."
His lips twisted cruelly. "You'd better pray you never fall into my hands. Otherwise, I'll make sure you suffer so badly that even death won't be an escape."
Every word seemed dragged out from the depths of his hatred.
Once, he had stood at the peak of the special enrollment, a rising star who could rival even Alaric Von Seraph.
