Lirantis shimmered under the soft glow of the dome. Streams of mana-light curved across the transparent ceiling, tracing the movement of the sea above. The streets were quiet — only the faint hum of enchantments and the rhythmic echo of footsteps on coral stone filled the air.
Trafalgar walked beside Zafira, his posture relaxed but his gaze distant. The night was cool, the kind that should have calmed him, yet her silence made it heavier.
"You could've told me earlier," Zafira said softly. "About the blood."
He stopped mid-step, eyes flicking toward her. "You mean that? It was just a nosebleed."
"Don't try that tone with me," she replied, crossing her arms. "You wiped it with your sleeve, Trafalgar. I noticed. So did Barth."
He gave a faint sigh and turned his head away. "And you're are overreacting."
