Chapter 70: Favourite Grandson? (2)
Robi lost one hand during that expedition, and Garran still laughed about it whenever drunk. To Garran, those were clever victories. To Robi, they were dirty tricks. Their hatred had never truly ended.
Now Dorian was dead in front of the Marovain shop.
Robi Marovain was in the city.
To Garran, the pieces connected in the most hateful way possible. His eyes burned with rage.
"I am sure that one handed fucker planned it."
Ravencroft did not speak, but his heart moved quickly. This was exactly the kind of anger he wanted. If Garran focused on Robi, then House Ravencroft could hide behind Velkhur’s fury. The more the two duke families fought, the safer Ravencroft would be from blame.
Garran stood from the chair.
"He must be trying to get revenge for all those years of losing to me. That one handed loser always hated me for being better than him. He is using a fallen baron brat to insult my blood. He is trying to get back at me by killing my seventh favourite grandson."
Adrian lowered his head and avoided looking at Tina. He did not know whether Dorian would appreciate being called seventh favourite after death. But dead men had fewer opinions.
Garran threw the crushed wine cup against the wall.
It struck a shelf and knocked down two sealed bone jars. One cracked on the floor, and pale dust spilled out. Ravencroft’s eye twitched because the jar was expensive, but he said nothing. There were times when noble pride cost money. This was one of those times.
"I will kill him," Garran said. "I will finally end our rivalry."
Ravencroft looked up sharply.
"My lord?"
Garran pointed at him.
"Make preparations. Send a message to the Marovain shop and ask Robi Marovain for an explanation. Invite him to come to your house for that explanation. Tell him House Velkhur is pressuring you. Tell him the death happened in your city and you need both houses present to settle the matter properly."
Ravencroft understood the plan.
If he invited Robi as Baron Ravencroft, Robi might not come. But if the message said House Velkhur was pressuring him and the matter needed discussion, Robi might come to control the situation before it worsened. Marovain would want to shape the story. Robi would not ignore a chance to speak before Velkhur turned the city against them.
Garran’s voice became colder.
"He will definitely come. That one handed fox always comes when there is profit or danger. This time, I will kill him."
Ravencroft bowed his head.
"Yes, my lord. I will prepare the message immediately."
Garran looked toward Adrian.
"And the Vardros bastard?"
Adrian flinched when Garran’s eyes fell on him.
Ravencroft answered quickly, "My lord, Lucard still has a spell on my son’s blood. If he dies before removing it, Adrian may die too."
Garran stared at Adrian with clear disappointment.
Adrian lowered his head, ashamed and afraid.
"A baron heir held hostage by a mudblood spell," Garran said with disgust. "Pathetic."
Adrian’s face turned red, but he did not dare speak.
Garran waved his hand. "Fine. Keep him alive until the spell is removed. After that, break him. As for the girl and boy, take them. If the boy is important to your plans, keep him locked. If the girl causes trouble, give her to Tina to handle."
Tina’s eyes lit with cruel joy despite her fear.
"Yes, Lord Garran."
Ravencroft bowed again. "I will arrange everything."
Outside the high window, Lucard held himself still.
He had heard enough.
A Fifth Circle Velkhur elder.
Garran Velkhur.
Robi Marovain’s old rival.
A planned meeting at House Ravencroft.
A trap for Robi.
A desire to keep Lucard alive until Adrian’s spell was removed.
And proof that Ravencroft still had plans involving Jake.
This was very useful information.
Lucard’s mind moved fast. The situation had become better and worse at the same time. Worse because a Fifth Circle elder was far beyond what he could face directly. Even after reaching level nineteen, Lucard was still at the First Blood Circle. A Fifth Circle battle mage was not Dorian. If Garran attacked him openly, Lucard would die unless he prepared something first.
But it was better because Garran hated Robi.
That hatred could be used.
Robi and Garran already had history. Old humiliation. Old rivalry. Old anger. The death of Dorian had poured oil over it. Ravencroft would try to hide behind Garran. Robi would try to protect Marovain’s reputation. Celia would be pulled between family duty and the mess Lucard had created.
And Lucard stood in the middle, holding the small blood spell in Adrian’s body like a hook.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Then his mana flickered for a fraction of a second.
It was tiny.
Almost nothing.
But inside a hall guarded by nervous mages and watched by a Fifth Circle elder, almost nothing was still dangerous.
Garran’s head turned toward the high window.
His eyes narrowed.
"Who is there? Show yourself right now."
Lucard’s smile vanished. He moved instantly from his position.
Inside the hall, Garran raised his hand.
"Flame Eye."
A small red eye of fire formed above his palm and shot toward the window. The glass heated at once, glowing red around the edges. Lucard had already pulled himself up before it reached him. The fire eye struck the window and burst outward. Heat washed over the stone wall. The glass cracked but did not fully break.
Below, guards shouted.
"Roof!?"
"Someone is on the roof."
"Check the western wall."
Lucard moved across the tiles like a shadow released from a cage. He could not stay here anymore. The information was enough. If he remained even one breath too long, Garran might mark his presence properly. Blood Concealment could hide him from weak men, but it could not fully fool a Fifth Circle elder once the elder knew someone was nearby.
A tile cracked under his foot.
He did not stop.
Below, a horn sounded.
The manor woke.