How Evora ca to know the specifics of the chanical armor was no longer sothing Ravenna could afford to ponder, as her first instinct upon hearing the request was to refuse.
Although Evora's strength and status were enough to allow her to act unbridled within the empire, how could she, with her extre thirst for power, miss such an opportunity? And if an ether armant suitable for Evora was indeed created, what would she do with such power?
…Ansel.
A frigid chill instantly seized Ravenna's heart.
She recalled Ansel, and that young Hydral, his calm yet frenzied shot in Pelican City.
Miss puppet instinctively glanced at Evora's profile, at the scar forcefully healed by her fla of feast, still vivid and unmistakable.
For Evora, this was an unforgivable disgrace.
The discord between Ansel and Evora was well-known throughout the empire. And for the tyrannical princess, who needed no reason for destruction and havoc, her vengeance was likely already scheduled.
Fearing the weapon crafted for Ansel by Lord Flalle, did she seek to enhance her strength with Etheric armants… for her revenge?
Indeed, Evora needed no greater power, for there was none worthy of her confrontation at this stage, with external forces, except for... Ansel.
She must not agree, she absolutely must not.
"...Your Highness," Ravenna closed her eyes, murmuring, "If it's Etheric Armants you require, I regret to say... with my current capabilities and those of the Tower of Babel, it's impossible to create."
"Hm?"
Evora's tone slightly rose, the fla in her eyes causing the office temperature to surge, scorching Ravenna's skin, making even breathing a tornt.
"Are you... refusing ?"
She looked down upon Ravenna, a terrifying ferocity erging from her gaze. The next mont, Ravenna's expression turned to one of agony, she stumbled and fell, her body convulsing violently.
Flas... inside body...
Evora stuffed a ball of fla into her innards!
"Cough... cough cough!"
Ravenna spat out a mouthful of scalding, dark red blood, the intense steam proving the tornt she was enduring.
But the small, pitiful puppet, convulsing on the ground, rely hunched over, responding with great difficulty, "I'm terribly sorry, Your Highness, I can't..."
"So, you are still, refusing ?"
Evora revealed an even more cruel smile.
Perhaps it was the pleasure of tornting Ravenna, or perhaps it was the dissatisfaction after being refused by her, but an indescribable rage… drove her to disregard the original plan. Evora was always such a person.
Her hand reached into the air, into the flas, disappearing, while Ravenna's small body was suddenly lifted... no, dragged into mid-air!
Evora's hand, directly piercing through space, grabbed her spine, pulling her entire being up alive.
"Answer , you pitiful puppet toyed with by Ansel as re rubbish."
Evora stared intently at Ravenna, articulating each word deliberately, "Are you, refusing, ?" "If you wish to negotiate with , you possess no right to refuse."
The inhuman pain of burning viscera and spine pulling was crushing Ravenna's will, yet she showed no signs of yielding.
Not wanting Evora to dominate the empire's lifeline of food, not desiring such a dark conclusion, but if... if it ant sacrificing Ansel—
The gentleness and cruelty, the teachings and mockery, the passion and coldness, and... the brilliance that once shimred in his eyes, all swallowed by that profound ocean blue.
Countless fragnts, chaotic mories, intertwined, assembling nurous visages of Ansel, both his youthful and matured selves; always laughing with her, calmly gazing at her; so full of zeal, yet now beyond comprehension.
His greetings, laughter, care, guidance, curiosity, anger, roars, and finally, a return to indifferent silence.
"Cough!"
Ravenna once again vomited a pool of steamy, dark red blood, feeling far from death, for Evora had no intention of killing, rely torturing her.
The flas scorching her innards seed to spread throughout her body, the hand gripping her spine as if to snap her vertebrae, yet Ravenna, on the verge of ntal collapse from the pain, still did not speak.
Why... If it was for everyone, for redemption, for ideals, then Ansel, too, should be... sothing that could be sacrificed.
Ansel also said, everything could be sacrificed.
Three years ago, hadn't I already, made the sa choice?
But why this ti... can't I sacrifice Ansel again?
Amidst her nearly shattered thoughts, Ravenna's mind once again recalled the words spoken by Ansel, the expressions he showed, the details she had not noticed before, now vividly clear.
And Annelisa's sorrowful whisper:
["He's very sad."]
In that mont, a soul pain more unbearable than physical torture struck again.
The chaotic mories drilled through her skull, cleaved her brain, and rcilessly penetrated her deepest will, along with the burning ant only to tornt, obliterating Ravenna's remaining thoughts.
Her consciousness plunged into the deepest abyss, and before that...
Ravenna seed to see soone fiercely pouncing on Evora from behind, while feeling sothing dark and coldly terrifying enveloping her from behind.
Though it was so incomprehensible terror, Ravenna felt completely at ease before losing consciousness.
Because she heard, that familiar voice saying:
"Evora, you will pay the price."
*
When Ravenna awoke once more, she found herself in a gray and white room.
The furniture, decorations, and the petite figure sitting at the desk quickly made her realize that she was currently within a mory from her past.
Her exceptional mory allowed her to recognize that she was observing a mory from when she was around four or five years old.
Ravenna Ziegler, a prodigy among prodigies, was able to fluently converse with others and write to a certain extent by the age of one, or more precisely, eleven months.
Additionally, she was a born extraordinary being, capable of ascending without the need for ritualistic assistance. Thus, from the mont of her birth, Ravenna possessed a treasure of talent and ability as both a "human" and an "extraordinary being" that many could only dream of but never attain.
Such a genius was destined for limitless glory, to achieve the pinnacle of brilliance surrounded by countless admirers, and to have a perfectly happy life.
However, her childhood was far from such.
That brief yet most aningful period of her life had no connection to… happiness.
*
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