Chapter 162 : Determination
Mordred observed her for a long time. This woman was more dangerous than he had initially thought. Not through weakness or naivety, but through that ruthless lucidity that almost matched his own. She had identified her own motivations with surgical precision and fully embraced them.
Suddenly, she lunged forward.
The movement was so swift, so unexpected, that even Mordred was surprised. In a fraction of a second, Livia crossed the space between them and pressed herself against his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck with striking feline agility.
- "Me, Mordred!" she cried out, her voice vibrating with almost feverish excitement. "I want to be the first to receive your blood! Make me what you are! Give me that power!"
This time, the impulse was pure, primitive, devoid of all the philosophical reflection of the previous moment. But even in this explosion of raw emotion, Mordred could see intelligence gleaming in her eyes. She hadn’t gone mad; she had simply given free rein to her deepest desires after rationalizing them.
He placed his hands gently but firmly on her shoulders, pushing her back slightly to clear his personal space while plunging his gaze into hers.
- "Very well, Livia," he said calmly, his deep voice resonating through the room. "Since you insist with such... conviction, you shall be the first to receive this transformation."
He turned to the others, his expression becoming grave again.
- "Those who refuse can die now. I will not hold you back. The outside world will show you no mercy, and the dragons, like humans, will hunt you down. You who are the refuse of France, without the necessary power to resist them, you will be nothing but prey."