Chapter 274 (1/2)

Intense. That was Drak Wyrd. Where others might have turned that fame and strength into arrogance, Drak pushed it down, filling his short brown hair, his mild eyes, his well-muscled stature with it. There was a density and permanence to him that others couldn’t rival. That was part of his strength, the very air crackling with his power.

Azriel admired that. But in the same way she admired a skilled fisherman who could feed a village: in an extremely detached way. She wouldn’t be attracted to a person simply because they were strong. Because there were so many monsters out there with more strength than men. What was the point in having that as the quality most valued in a mate?

“Are you not interested? Are you worried about the pressure from your family? I have never understood why you hesitated, let it draw itself out this long.” Drak said slowly, looking at her carefully. Liam stood behind him, ready at any point to give them service.

It was honestly so amusing that Azriel found her hand moving, gesturing for more wine.

Not really to drink, just to make the man move and fill her cup.

“...how can you pretend this is beneath your notice?” Drak asked, exasperated with her silence as they both watched Liam pour her more wine. “Are you really that much of a sociopath?”

Azriel chuckled. “It is bad form to tell someone whose values don’t line up with yours they are a sociopath. The Northern Region… It is not my responsibility.”

“But it is! You are the inheritor of a lineage that stretches back to the founding-”

“Styles were established by the Spearman to get rid of exactly this sort of power consolidation,” Azriel interrupted, swirling her wine around. “It is simple. You value this region, I don’t. I would much rather proceed to the frontlines. Out of respect for my family I have allowed this to happen. What more is there to say? Let it be said with spears.”

Drak seemed to be struggling with something. “Do you… truly care for nothing but yourself and your freedom…?”

Azriel shrugged, and stood. Liam brought her to the door. But before she left, she could hear Drak speaking to her back.

“But there is something you care about, don’t you…? This Ghosthound. To promise me your hand in exchange for a stay on his execution. But it was just a stay, Azriel. Unless you agree-”

She walked out of the building without looking back.

After she had gone, Drak crushed the table to powder.

He was still there, his shoulders heaving, when Liam returned. The man stood respectfully beside him, not commenting on the state of the table, which, if anything, just infuriated Drak more. But he channeled that rage elsewhere.

Then he took a deep breath, and the anger dissipated.

“Does she truly care so little for her family…?” Drak muttered.

Liam hesitated for a second, then said. “It seems rather that her family did not value her mother, and sent her as their representative to the frontlines. I’ve looked into it too, her performance was exemplary, but alas… before her 4 years were up… Afterwards, the family devolved into bickering. Azriel’s father wasn’t very… strong a man.”

“She had to take over herself…” Drak grunted. “Yes, I understand. But still. How can she bear the name Blanche and not feel pride for what her ancestors did, coming with mine and taming the North…?”

To that, Liam had nothing to say. He simply waited while his master thought. Finally, the silence was broken by Drak cursing to himself, then shaking his head, furious. “No, no, no… the dungeons are all too far away. Tch, being out here away from Village Spirits is truly despicable… that’s why we need to reunite the North…”

Drak’s gaze remained on the ground. “There has to be a way… I refuse to believe that she doesn’t care at all for this man she made a promise over… now I just need to have the time to crush him slowly…”

“...Is that wise?” Liam asked, even though he knew what his master would say.

But to his surprise, it seemed that Drak truly considered what Liam had to say. It wasn’t that Drak was a fool, he just sometimes became obstinate on two subjects: family and Azriel Blanche. This situation was the unfortunate double whammy, which gave Liam a headache, but also a small measure of joy.

Drak was always happiest when he had concrete goals he could aim for, as he had always been. That will was the reason he had become the dominant force he was in this tournament. That will.

“...Yes, it is necessary. For the first time in a while, I feel… slightly threatened. His presence… was not something I expected, or can identify…” Drak said, frowning. “This Ghosthound… a generalist mage, dabbling in the spear… but his skills with those roots are uncanny. In addition… his spear skills have been steadily increasing…”

“You’ve paid attention to him?” Liam asked, impressed in spite of himself.