Chapter 5: Selvia’s Tears
"You little bastard!" Edric growled through gritted teeth, his entire body shaking violently, his knuckles turning white as he clenched the staff—almost as if he might snap it in half.
"Hahaha..." Lucien laughed. "Edric, don’t forget—as long as Grandfather is alive, this pendant still has its power."
"AAA!!!" Edric roared, swinging the staff at Lucien.
Lucien was startled; he hadn’t expected Edric to lose control and attack him, no matter the consequences.
"Stop!" At that very moment, an old but commanding voice echoed through the hall.
An elderly man, looking to be around seventy, strode into the grand hall.
He had a full beard and long hair neatly tied back. Though his beard and hair were white as snow and his face lined with the marks of time, his eyes were still sharp and filled with authority.
His body was tall and sturdy—even at a glance, it was clear he seemed stronger than Edric.
"Grandfather!" Seeing the old man, Lucien immediately called out in delight, while Edric grit his teeth, looking as though he had just bitten into ten hot peppers.
That was right—this was Lucien’s grandfather, Edric’s father, Theobald Vortan.
When he saw Lucien, Theobald’s stern, angry expression suddenly softened: "Ah, my grandson, how was the banquet?"