"You... how the hell did you get that mark? What does this an?" the sword’s voice exploded, completely losing the composure it had tried to maintain until now.
There was no longer mockery or arrogance in its voice.
Only fear.
The eye on the hilt opened wider than normal, trembling slightly as it fixed on the mark Lloyd left visible, as if wanting to make sure it wasn’t a mistake, an illusion or so kind of cheap trick.
But it wasn’t.
It recognized it.
And that made everything worse.
Lloyd barely tilted his head, observing the reaction with a calm that was almost out of place. His green eyes, dimly illuminated by the moons’ light, showed no rush or tension. Only a kind of tranquil interest, as if confirming sothing he already suspected.
"Mhm..." he murmured, with a carefree tone. "So you recognize it, eh?"
He let a second pass, as if savoring the mont.
"Well, you see, my dear [Belial]..." he continued, pronouncing the na with a naturalness that had nothing normal about it. "You could say I’m Siegfried’s successor."
The effect was imdiate.
The sword shuddered.
Not like before, when it tried to free itself, but in a deeper way, more contained... as if sothing inside it had suddenly tensed.
Because Lloyd hadn’t said his na conventionally.
It hadn’t been a simple word thrown into the air.
It had been correct.
Complete.
The result of having fitted each piece of that impossible puzzle that was his true na.
And Belial knew it.
The instant he heard it, he understood.
There was no margin for doubt.
No possible error.
That boy... had it.
The eye trembled more intensely.
"I-it can’t be..." the voice ca out lower this ti, broken at a point it wasn’t accustod to showing. "You..."
There was a brief pause, uncomfortable, as if it cost him to formulate the next question.
"What... are you going to do to ?"
The silence that followed was heavy.
Lloyd didn’t respond imdiately. His fingers rested gently on the table’s surface, marking a slow rhythm, almost distracted, while maintaining his gaze fixed on the sword.
There was no hostility in his expression.
But no compassion either.
"?" he finally repeated, as if the question seed curious to him.
A slight smile appeared on his lips, small, but clear.
"I’ve co to finish the job."
His words fell with a weight difficult to bear, settling in the room like an almost axiomatic truth, or rather, like a promise.
Belial’s eye contracted.
Because, deep down, he understood exactly what he ant.
And that...
Was what scared most.
"You... you’re not going to..." Belial tried to speak, but didn’t finish the sentence.
It wasn’t necessary. One look from Lloyd sufficed.
It was a brief instant, barely a crossing of gazes, but what was in those green eyes left no space for interruptions. It wasn’t uncontrolled anger nor an explicit threat. It was sothing colder. Firr, the very expression of inevitability.
The sword’s voice went silent.
As if sothing had cut its impulse short.
Lloyd, instead, smiled.
Far from being a wide or exaggerated smile, it was small, tilted, with a nuance that had nothing innocent about it, and at the sa ti, seed to be. There was amusent in it, yes... but also sothing darker, sothing that fed on the situation.
The boy stayed there, observing.
Giving him ti.
Ti for Belial to think, to understand, to drown in his own conclusions. The tension in the chains, the slight tremor in the blade, that charged silence... everything was part of the sa mont.
He wanted to see it.
He wanted him to feel it.
A faint flash appeared in his vision.
[ 95 V.P]
The boy narrowed his eyes slightly, and by pure reflex ran his tongue over his lower lip, savoring that small notice from the system. An unexpected reward he internally appreciated.
But it wasn’t what he was looking for. He wasn’t acting to obtain points.
There was a simpler motivation.
Sothing more direct.
Revenge.
For having touched what didn’t belong to him. For having dared to manipulate Alice.
The simple mory slightly tensed his jaw, though not enough to erase that strange calm he maintained on his face.
And then...
Sothing clicked.
It was a quick thought, almost fleeting, but clear enough to make him stop a second. Lloyd blinked once, barely tilting his chin, as if following the thread of that idea until giving it form.
Yes...
That perhaps that was already enough.
"You know..." he began, with a lighter tone, almost casual. "I wanted to make you suffer a bit more."
His fingers drumd softly on the table before stopping.
"But I just realized sothing," he comnted, with a satisfied smile, while raising his gaze again toward the sword.
"Technically, it’s thanks to you that I reconciled with Alice..."
There was a small pause.
"So... I suppose I’ll make it quick. After all, everything ended well right?"
His gaze changed barely a bit.
It didn’t lose its shine, but beca clearer. More direct.
"You know, being too evil could beco a bad habit," he concluded while shrugging.
Then, the young man extended his hand toward the sword.
As he approached, the mark on the back of his hand glowed with a faint but constant golden tone, as if responding to his intention before he even did anything else.
"No... no... wait!" Belial begged, without trace of arrogance. He almost seed to have lost all trace of pride.
There was only desperation in his voice.
But Lloyd didn’t stop.
Without trace of doubt.
Without trace of hesitation.
The mont his decision fully settled, sothing inside him moved. It wasn’t a clear physical sensation, but rather a sudden understanding. An intuition that transford into action almost at the sa ti.
Siegfried’s authority.
Finally...
It was starting to fit.
Not as a detailed instruction, but as a direction. A way of thinking. Of connecting concepts.
Of uniting them.
And Lloyd followed that impulse.
At that instant...
He activated [Oxymoron].
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