Death Separation - 3rd Level
The Wailing Land of Mist
"You… You can't be a Count."
Trifon took a red-colored vial of potion, with bubbling liquid inside it. He gave a glance to his uncle, hearing his mutters, before pouring the vial's content on Tomislav's stomach.
Viscount Rayko would have already run away, if not for his senses that warned him of his immediate death. Only the shivers and the impossibility of the situation made him disregard those warnings as he whispered out of his mouth.
"How can you be a Count, when… even Drago with the entire House behind him couldn't Rank-up? I… I refuse to believe it. I refuse…"
The blood and flesh on Tomislav's wound wriggled and closed up as Rayko asked the question. Trifon saw Tomislav's fluttering eyelids and stood up. He approached the pinned down Berb and with a jerk of his hand, the four roses nailing down his palms and legs vanished.
