"What are you doing?" Sophie's voice cut through the chill of the night, a thread of concern woven into her tone. Her words tugged at the frayed edges of my composure, and I was forced to draw in a steadying breath, my grip on the crate tightening as though it could anchor
to the present mont.
I didn't need to look at her to feel the weight of her gaze. Her presence was a tangible thing, pressing against the barriers I had so carefully constructed. I knew the emotions weren't mine—weren't truly Draven's, at least—but the remnants of what the original Draven had felt still lingered, like ghosts haunting a long-abandoned castle.
The sadness, the longing, the affection—they were all there, swirling just beneath the surface, threatening to pull
under if I let them.
"I'm taking this to my mansion," I said, keeping my voice steady, even though it felt like I was fighting to keep my emotions at bay. The goblin king's corpse, hidden within the crate I was levitating with psychokinesis, was a task that required my focus. I didn't need these old, buried feelings surfacing now. Not when the mission was so critical.
Sophie's brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to piece together what I was doing. Her concern was genuine, and that only made it worse. Her kindness, her strength—traits that had once drawn the original Draven to her—were now like knives twisting in my chest, because they were things I could no longer afford to acknowledge.
"You're going to research it, aren't you?" she asked, her voice softer now, almost tentative, as though she were afraid of my answer.
"Yes," I replied, not offering more than that. I couldn't afford to. Every word felt like it was dragging
deeper into waters I couldn't navigate.
But as she continued to speak, describing her worries, the recent battle, and how the others were holding up, I found myself listening less to her words and more to the lody of her voice. It was a voice that once soothed, once promised companionship in the darkness. But now, it was a siren song pulling
toward a past I had to let go of.
I could feel the original Draven's emotions like an undercurrent, threatening to pull
into their depths. The longing for what was lost, the bitterness of what could never be—all of it was there, churning and roiling just beneath my carefully controlled exterior. And yet, I couldn't allow myself to feel any of it. I had a role to play, and there was no room for sentintality.
"Sophie," I finally said, cutting through whatever she was saying, my tone harsher than I intended. Her eyes widened slightly at the interruption, and guilt gnawed at , but I pushed it down. "I need to get this done. The sooner I can analyze what's inside this crate, the sooner we can figure out how to deal with whatever's controlling those goblins."
She nodded, a frown marring her features. "I understand," she said quietly, stepping back as if to give
space. But in her eyes, I could see the doubt forming—the hesitation that was beginning to take root. And that, more than anything, sent a spike of dread through . I knew where this conversation was heading.
As I prepared to move past her, she reached out, lightly touching my arm. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send a jolt through . "Draven… Draven," she corrected herself, the slip of my true na a reminder of everything I was trying to distance myself from. "Are you okay? You seem… different."
Her concern was genuine, her touch warm, and for a split second, I could almost let myself believe that things could be different. But then the reality of our situation crashed down on , and I knew what I had to do.
"Sophie," I began, and the emotion I kept buried flared up again, making it harder to keep my voice even. "What do you want to know?" I already knew, though. I could see it in the way her face shifted, her brows knitting together as the pieces of the puzzle began to align in her mind.
I know.
This question would change everything about us.
After this question from her, there was only one answer I could ask her. An answer that is the result of my conclusion after considering everything that happened, including the slow rast of improvents of the territories around , the Icevern, the adventurers, and Sophie.
It's all because of .
Draven. Your adventure continues at m v|l-e-
That didn't beco a villain.
As expected.
So it can't be helped.
"Do you know anything about the ssages? The ones I sent to my brother? They never got through," she asked, her voice trembling slightly with the weight of her question.
And there it was. The question I had been dreading, the one that would force
to tear away whatever remained of the connection between us. She was sharp—too sharp not to have realized that sothing had gone wrong. And now, she wanted answers.
This is fine.
This is the better path.
For .
For Draven.
And for Sophie as well.
This is sothing that I need to do to ensure her safety and her survival as well.
Even if I don't actually have this feeling as this is not mine, but the original Draven's.
I decided to do this in honor of his soul.
I forced a smile, though it felt brittle, as though it might shatter at any mont. "I do," I said, watching as her expression shifted from concern to shock, and then to sothing darker—sothing close to betrayal.
"You do?" Her voice was barely above a whisper now, the realization hitting her all at once. "You… you obstructed them?"
I could see the hurt in her eyes, the way her mind was trying to make sense of what she was hearing. And it killed , more than I could ever let on, that I was the one to put that hurt there. But I couldn't afford to let her see that. Not now.
"Yes," I replied coldly, leaning into the role I needed to play. "I wanted to see if you were worth my ti, worth all the effort that everyone else seed to think you were worth. But all you've proven to
is that you're not. You're a liability, Sophie."
Her eyes widened in shock, her lips parting as though she were going to protest, but no words ca. I could see the struggle in her, the way she wanted to refute what I was saying, but she couldn't. Because sowhere deep down, she believed it too.
"And you were right to question ," she finally said, her voice trembling with the effort to stay composed. "I failed to realize the truth until now. But I won't let this happen again. I won't fail again."
I could see the resolve in her eyes, the determination that had always been there, even when we first t. But I had to crush that too. Because if she believed there was hope, she would keep fighting for it, and that was the last thing I needed.
"This is the last ti we'll et," I said, forcing a cold, detached tone into my voice. "You're not worth my ti, Sophie. I've questioned what the forr
saw in you, and honestly? I can't see it. You're just a burden, and I have no use for burdens."
The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but they had the desired effect. I could see the way her face crumpled, the way her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she tried to hold back tears. I had done what I needed to do—pushed her away, made her doubt herself enough that she would stop relying on .
But as I walked away, my back to her, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just lost sothing irreplaceable. The original Draven's emotions still clawed at , screaming for
to turn back, to apologize, to fix what I had broken. But I couldn't. I had made my choice. And now, I had to live with it.
The cold wind whipped around
as I moved away from the fortress, the crate floating beside . The goblin king's corpse inside was a reminder of the path I had chosen, a path that I couldn't deviate from, no matter how much it hurt. The world needed a villain, and if that was the role I had to play to save it, then so be it.
But as I made my way back to my mansion, the weight of what I had done settled in my chest, heavy and suffocating. I had pushed her away—crushed her spirit—and in doing so, I had crushed sothing within myself as well.
But there was no turning back now. The path before
was dark and lonely, but it was the only one I could walk. And I would walk it alone.
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