Chapter 2: Lucien
The middle aged man thought for a while then seemed to accept the win. He brought out a piece of parchment from somewhere.
He then gestured to one of the soldiers, they unhooked one of the young mans from above his head.
The remnant pain that flowed through made Lucien wince internally yet the young man's expression didn't change.
Lucien felt genuine respect sprout for the young man whose body he shared.
The moment the finger was about to land on the parchment. Lucien felt something flow from the young man to him, it was weird. It felt intangible yet extremely real, heavy and solemn. It felt like glory and responsibility.
The middle aged man had an almost orgasmic expression on his face. His face took on a sardonic expression as he laughed at an extremely self-satisfied tone.
"Hahaha. Alaric, So what if you were the Aureville Blood Storm, didn't I still get it. Where are you now? Hahaaha."
Lucien felt the young man's feelings of shame and pain seep through. He couldn't help but pity him.
He was so young yet he had been through so much. From what Lucien could see the young man was named Lucien like him, he was the heir to something and his uncle had captured and coerced him into signing it away.
That was bound to be extremely traumatic.
The uncle then turned to him, "open the sanctum, Lucien. I'll let Giselle go, I won't even go after your sister."