Chapter 285 - 284. Cursed (3)
I went to see Zale the next night. The deadline was drawing closer, and the pressure to leave for Sestia weighed heavily on my mind. There wasn’t much time left, but this meeting couldn’t be avoided.
The soft glow of moonlight streamed through the open doors of his window. Zale stood inside, an air of casual confidence about him as if he had all the time in the world. His lips curled into a sly smile when he saw me.
"Welcome," he greeted, his voice smooth. "You’ve arrived just in time. I—"
"I still don’t trust you," I cut him off sharply, my tone cold and firm.
Zale blinked, momentarily taken aback, but the smirk quickly returned. He gestured lazily toward a table, pouring wine into a crystal glass with practiced ease.
"Didn’t I undo the curse on the Pope?" he asked, raising the glass to his lips as though my distrust amused him.
I met his gaze unflinchingly. "He’s useless to you now. What you need is me. So even if he dies, you have nothing to lose."
Zale laughed at that—a low, mocking chuckle that resonated through the quiet room. He swirled the wine in his glass, leaning casually against the table.
"You’re right," he admitted, his tone laced with amusement. "He was worth something until he brought that Lesser Dragon into the Temple."
His words sparked a memory, and I seized the opportunity. "That reminds me," I said, watching as he took another slow sip of wine.
"Hmm?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.