By afternoon, the sun had been swallowed by thick clouds, and a heavy gray hung over the city.
Driving a low-key black sedan, Livia navigated through narrow alleys and finally stopped in front of an inconspicuous old house. This was Elias's new, secret stronghold—a place so hidden that even most members involved in the expansion project had no idea it existed.
Pushing open the door, she stepped onto creaking wooden floors, the faint sound breaking the silence.
Inside, the room was dim yet meticulously tidy. Elias was already seated at the table, as if he had sensed her arrival long before she came. At the sound of the door, he looked up, and for a fleeting second, a trace of gentleness flickered in his eyes before being swiftly buried under his usual calm.
"What's wrong?" His voice was hoarse, tinged with an unintentional urgency.
Livia walked straight to him without any pleasantries, speaking bluntly, "I'm here to remind you of one thing—the third force might be even more dangerous than Eryx. From today onward, this will be your most important task."
Elias frowned slightly, as though he had already anticipated the gravity of the matter.
"I want you to have Red create a commotion in areas under our control," Livia continued, her expression steady. "Make it look like we're focusing all our efforts on finding the Grail. It should draw them out—whether it's Eryx or the third party."
She paused, her voice lowering, "And you—keep your eyes only on the third force."
Elias was silent for a moment, as if weighing his options—or struggling against something deeper. Then he spoke, his voice laced with a worry he could no longer hide.
"Then… if I'm watching the third force, what about Eryx?" His gaze locked onto hers, full of unguarded concern. "You're not planning to go into Eryx's territory yourself, are you? It's too dangerous."
His tone tightened slightly, like an unspoken plea—restrained, almost humble.
Livia shook her head lightly, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at her lips.
"No. I won't." Her voice was gentle, yet carried an unshakable firmness. "I've already arranged for someone else."
She had decided it would be Emma. But she didn't say it out loud.
Elias stared at the soft curve of her smile, and a quiet, bitter sadness welled up inside him.
She was always like this—calmly setting everything into place, leaving no openings, no cracks for anyone to slip through.
He lowered his lashes, hiding the ache in his eyes.
Yet, a moment later, he couldn't stop himself from asking another question.
His voice was almost a whisper, rough and low:
"…Are you going to the hospital every day now?"
The moment the words left his lips, Elias almost couldn't hear himself. He already knew the answer. And yet, he still craved to hear it from her—hoped, even now, for the tiniest hesitation.
Hoped she might waver, even for a second.
Livia nodded gently, her expression calm, her tone even softer.
"Yes." She said, her voice tender but resolute. "After all, I'm still his wife. I need to take care of him."
As the words fell, it was as if the air had been sucked from the room.
Elias stared silently at the tabletop, his fingers tightening into fists, the knuckles whitening. But his face showed no emotion—he simply gave a slight nod, as if he hadn't heard anything at all.
Only his heart, deep inside, twisted and tore, aching with a dull, slow agony.
He knew—he had no claim on her. No right to ask anything of her.
All he could do was sit there, listening to her tell him herself: she was at another man's side, day after day, without complaint.
And he—he didn't even have the right to be near her.
Once, it had felt like he was so close to reaching her. But Marcellus's injury had changed everything. If he could, he would have taken that wound himself.
Livia watched him lower his head, and a faint pang stirred in her chest. But she couldn't stop—not now.
There were too many divides between them—duty, allegiance, the grinding weight of fate.
All she could offer was a soft sentence, like a tiny mercy—for him, and for herself.
"Thank you, Elias."
With those words, she turned and left.
Inside the dim room, Elias sat alone, as still and silent as a statue.
Outside, a cold wind swept through the streets, stealing away the last remnants of warmth from his body.