Chapter 813: Let us hold a competition
Thalor’s smile didn’t waver—but the warmth behind it calcified.
Test first.
Always test.
He could afford curiosity. He could even afford miscalculation—once.
But before he shifted his approach, he needed to know: was Lucavion guessing? Or was he involved?
He let the silence stretch, deliberately unhurried. Let the hum of the ballroom swell around them, the laughter, the clinking glasses—all background to a very quiet battlefield.
Thalor let the tension cool by a fraction. Just enough to seem relaxed. Just enough to lay bait.
"Mind if I ask," he said lightly, swirling the contents of his untouched glass, "what ionization is?"
The tone was casual. Disarming. But the words were anything but.
Lucavion’s smile didn’t change.
But his eyes?
They blinked once—slow. Controlled. And then the answer came, smooth and lazy as drifting smoke.