She had seen firsthand that man's ruthlessness and cold precision. His methods for dealing with betrayal were the reason everyone fell silent at the mere mention of his name. It was precisely because she had once witnessed such a "cleansing" with her own eyes that she had come to understand—
traitors may exist, but they never escape unscathed.
Those who remained by his side in the end were always the strongest and most loyal servants he had personally chosen.
"He might not be able to command the entire organization as if it were his personal army," she said softly, her tone even calmer than Elias's, "but he himself is the embodiment of that power. As long as he's alive, he is the threat."
Elias looked at her, quietly surprised. He realized he might have underestimated Livia's composure—perhaps even her true connection to that man.
"You… you seem to know him quite well." He asked cautiously, trying to feel out the truth.
Livia lowered her gaze with a faint smile, lips curving ever so slightly, but gave no answer. She wouldn't speak of the past—shouldn't speak of it.
But her eyes had already told Elias everything.
In that moment, he suddenly understood—
this young woman before him may have stepped into the darkness far earlier than he had, and she likely knew far better what blades and abysses lurked within it.
But what he didn't understand… was how a noble daughter, a girl raised in the sheltered halls of aristocracy, had come to know that kind of world at all.
He didn't ask further. Instead, he sighed.
"Well, at least now we both know what we're truly up against. It's time we start planning our next move."
Livia nodded slightly, her gaze drifting into the distance, something like night hidden in her eyes.
What grew from that silence was no longer fear.
It was something far sharper: the clarity of knowing exactly what kind of enemy they were about to face—how deep, how cold, how impossibly tangled.
A flicker stirred in her heart, and her eyes darkened with thought.
After a moment, she spoke again, voice quiet but firm:
"I'm not afraid. But when I think about who we're up against—those on the surface, and those lurking in the shadows—it's clear we have to be far more cautious with whatever we plan next. Eryx in the open, Jim in the dark… and now even my most trusted friend has left us. No matter how I look at it, we're at a disadvantage."
Her voice grew quieter toward the end, as if the weight of the situation had seeped into her very bones.
Elias was silent for a moment, then let out a long breath. His hand pressed against the stone railing, knuckles pale, as if a thousand unsaid thoughts were pressing against his chest, too tangled to put into words.
"You're right," he said at last, his voice low and steady. "But the truth is… we've been talking all this time about a 'third force.' When in fact—there's a fourth one we've never truly addressed."
Livia's eyes snapped up to him. A strange sense of foreboding stirred in her chest.
And sure enough, his next words confirmed her suspicion.
"You mean… my father?" she asked quietly, her voice a careful balance of caution and composure.
Elias nodded. His expression grew especially complex.
"Yes," he said. "Your father… He may have kept his hands clean, but his influence is undeniable. Whether it's your mother's death, the turmoil within the family, or the eerie silence behind all this chaos—his presence is always there, just out of sight."
Livia's heart beat just a little faster.
Edgar—the man who, in her memories, was both a shadow and a contradiction. The loving father of her childhood, who had once spoiled her with warmth…
and the cold, distant figure who remained after her mother's death—like a stranger with a mask too heavy to lift.
In a low voice, she asked:
"…What is it he really wants?"