After a moment of silence, Elizabeth spoke, "Will you respond to this summons, or is this the last time I'll be seeing you?"
Her question was directed at Luminaria, who stared at Atlas as if asking him what she should do.
Should I enter the lion's den, or run off with Luminaria and continue training? Atlas inwardly contemplated, knowing deep down what the answer was.
"We'll all respond to the summons," Atlas said. "And Elizabeth, what exactly did you mean by 'is this the last time you'll be seeing Luminaria?' Did you really think that if I were to run, I would leave you behind?" He looked directly into Elizabeth's eyes as she blushed and turned her gaze away from him.
The intensity of his stare rooted her in place. Elizabeth's cheeks flushed as she turned her gaze away, flustered by the weight of his words. Her voice faltered. "N-no… I didn't mean it like that…"
Atlas smirked faintly, satisfied with her reaction, before returning his attention to the matter at hand.
"Then it's settled," he declared. "We prepare for the Celestial Board Realm."
"Master…" Luminaria muttered softly, her voice carrying a faint quiver. The word was barely audible, yet it immediately drew Atlas's attention—and even Elizabeth's.
Atlas turned his gaze toward her, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to discern what exactly was troubling her. She wasn't the type to hesitate without reason.
Then he noticed it. Her eyes weren't on him, not directly. They were fixated—unwaveringly—on his neck. Her lips parted slightly, and she bit down on the lower one as if trying to restrain herself.
"Haha…" Atlas chuckled, the sound deep and amused. So that's what's bugging her, he thought inwardly, an indulgent smirk playing on his lips.
Elizabeth, still standing to the side, tilted her head in confusion, utterly unaware of the exchange that was taking place beneath the surface.
Without a word, Atlas rose from where he was standing and moved toward the office chair at the center of the chamber. He sank into it leisurely, exuding the same commanding aura he always carried, and then—without looking at Luminaria—he tapped his lap once.
The sound alone was enough. Obediently, almost instinctively, Luminaria moved. She approached in measured steps, her body trembling faintly with anticipation, before settling gracefully onto his lap. Her hands clung lightly to his chest, her eyes glowing faintly with restrained hunger.
Atlas tilted his head to the side, just enough to reveal the strong line of his neck. The pale skin there seemed to call to her, and her breath grew heavier. Slowly—agonizingly slowly—her usual canine teeth elongated, sleek and sharp, reshaping into predatory fangs.
Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock, her breath catching in her throat. "M-Mother… your teeth…" she whispered, startled by the sudden transformation. She could only watch, frozen, as the scene unfolded.
And then, without hesitation, Luminaria gave in. Her lips parted wider, her fangs piercing into Atlas's neck with a smooth precision, and she drank deeply. The rich, divine blood flowed into her, and her body trembled as if she were savoring the very essence of life itself.
Her drinking was not measured or restrained—it was greedy, desperate, as though she had been starving for far too long. Each pull from his vein sent faint tremors of pleasure and hunger coursing through her, and a muffled sound of contentment escaped her lips.
Atlas, however, did not retaliate; he did not claim her neck as he often did in return. He leaned back into the chair, calm, composed, letting her feed uninterrupted. A subtle smirk lingered on his lips, as though this, too, was nothing more than part of his design.
For once, Luminaria was the only one who drank.
Her fingers dug faintly into his robes, her breathing ragged between gulps, and her expression softened with every mouthful of his blood. The bond between them, already unshakable, grew even deeper in that moment—her loyalty, her desire, her dependence, all etched further into her very soul.
Elizabeth, watching with wide, unblinking eyes, could do nothing but stand frozen. Her heart pounded, her mind flooded with questions, and yet the sight enthralled her more than it repelled her.
And so the Goddess of Life drank greedily from her Master, her fangs buried in his neck, her hunger finally appeased while Atlas sat perfectly still—allowing her, for this moment, to take everything she craved.
Elizabeth's lips parted faintly, her throat dry as she tried to form words that would not come. Something twisted deep in her chest—something sharp and unfamiliar.
It was not disgust, not entirely. No… it was something else. Watching her mother's lips pressed to Atlas's neck, drinking so greedily, stirred within her a strange ache she could neither name nor deny.
Why does it feel as though… I want to be there instead?
Her fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms. The confusion in her heart only deepened as she saw the way her mother trembled, her entire being softened and undone in Atlas's arms.
That raw surrender, that unguarded intimacy—it made Elizabeth's chest burn. A shameful heat coiled in her stomach, warring with her indignation.
Atlas, of course, noticed. His crimson eyes shifted, breaking from Luminaria for the briefest of moments to fix directly on Elizabeth. He caught everything—the way her breath quickened, the faint flush on her cheeks, the tightening of her grip. His smirk deepened.
When at last Luminaria's drinking slowed, her body trembling with satiation, Atlas rested a hand against her back—not to push her away, but to steady her. His gaze, however, never left Elizabeth.
"Elizabeth," he said, his voice calm yet commanding.
The young woman flinched, her eyes darting up to meet his.
"Do you see this?" Atlas tilted his head slightly, exposing the faint trace of crimson where Luminaria's fangs still rested against his skin. "This is loyalty. This is surrender. This… is devotion."
Elizabeth swallowed hard, her throat tight.
"Your mother," Atlas continued smoothly, "does not drink because she must. She drinks because she chooses to. She gives herself freely. Do you understand now why she is mine?"
The words sank deep, heavy, and inescapable. Elizabeth's heart pounded louder, her body trembling as though the very truth of what she was witnessing was forcing its way into her soul.
Her lips parted, but no answer came—only a faint, shivering breath.
Atlas's smirk curved wider. "Good. You don't need to answer. Your silence speaks enough."
His hand gently caressed Luminaria's hair, his other still resting casually against the arm of the chair, as though he held not one, but both women in his grasp.
"You could receive this kind of treatment; all you need to do is ask... But be warned, drinking my blood means you must give up on Fate and swear your loyalty to me," Atlas said.
His words intrigued Elizabeth, but that was the extent of their impact. She dismissed the thought of abandoning Lady Fate, just as her mother had.
Finally, she found her voice. "I... I would never betray Lady Fate," she declared. Despite her attempt to sound confident and resolute, her words lacked conviction.
Atlas smirked. "We'll see about that."