"Grimshaw," an entity spoke with authority, "I need you to understand something."
Grimshaw, now a loyal servant, kneeled before Lord Damien Blackthorn, his eyes filled with intensity. "Lord Damien Blackthorn, what do you wish for this humble servant, who possesses no intelligence, to know?"
His eyes were a chilling shade of silver, reflecting an intense malevolence. They seem to gleam with a predatory intelligence, revealing a mind that thrives on cunning schemes.
"I appreciate your unwavering devotion, Grimshaw. However, there is no need to emphasize my capabilities. I am well aware of what I can do. But I must commend you for correctly addressing me with my full title, as only a select few are aware of it. It is either my first name or my surname," Blackthorn explained.
"Setting that aside, I have called this meeting to inform you of my decision to leave the academy. Although I have already taken that step, I am open to your advice, which might influence me to reconsider. What are your thoughts?" he inquired.
Grimshaw gulped, taking a deep breath before responding. "I am taken aback by this news, as you are undoubtedly superior when it comes to decision-making. However, I believe your decision is sound, even though I am unaware of your intentions or reasons. I trust that you have foreseen the future to some extent, haven't you?"
Blackthorn possessed an aura that seems to absorb light, making his features perpetually shrouded in darkness. His platinum eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity, reflecting the depth of his malevolence.
"You are correct, Grimshaw. I have three years to prepare, to build an army to fight against the vorpal Lords, and especially against Soren, who will possess powers similar to those bastards."
"That is precisely why I have left the academy. I aim to instill in Valeria and Owen an insurmountable amount of determination and inspiration, so they may train and grow stronger. As for Evelyn and Dante, they will be fine. They were once maestros, and by now, they should have progressed significantly, albeit they should be in the next three years."
"I know the Vorpal Lords will not make a move until exactly three years from now. On this very day, three years from now, they will strike. And their initial target will be the Academy of Arcane Arts, the best academy in Duskfall."
Grimshaw couldn't help but ask, his voice filled with both respect and bewilderment, "How do you possess this knowledge?"
"Perhaps he has an informant providing him with all the necessary information," Grimshaw speculated inwardly.
Blackthorn's reply, however, compelled Grimshaw to offer a slight bow, displaying complete respect.
"I know all of this because it is exactly what Lucidrix and Ascendant would do. And it is precisely what Fate desires. Mind you, Fate is not a mere concept; she is a celestial goddess," Blackthorn explained, his eyes revealing a depth that cast ominous shadows, intensifying his enigmatic and sinister aura.
Grimshaw's mind struggled to process the overwhelming information being presented to him. His thoughts moved sluggishly, lagging behind the rapid succession of revelations.
Finally, he mustered the words to ask a burning question that had been gnawing at him, "Why target the Academy of Arcane Arts?"
Blackthorn's grin widened as he explained, "The academy holds a crucial significance. Its destruction would create a pathway to the celestial realm, causing a profound imbalance in the universe. But more importantly, it is where the thread of revelation is sealed."
"The threads of revelation!" Grimshaw muttered in awe, barely comprehending the immense power contained within.
Blackthorn's smile grew, a chilling glint in his eyes. "You see now, Grimshaw. That is why I trust you. You have proven yourself worthy to be my advisor." With a regal air, Blackthorn returned to his seat, radiating an aura of majesty.
Lord Blackthorn's attire mirrored the darkness of his soul. Clad in garments as black as night, his presence exuded an aristocratic malevolence.
A flowing cape trailed behind him like a living shadow, its edges adorned with intricate silver filigree, hinting at a hidden wealth and sophistication that concealed his sinister intentions.
Fear gripped Grimshaw as he realized the extent of Blackthorn's knowledge about the threads of revelation and his ability to access them. The latter was not just intelligent; he was always one step ahead.
Returning to their discussion, Blackthorn revealed, "I have even entrusted Owen with the sun pill."
"I thought Owen was a hum---"
The mention of the sun pill caused Grimshaw's body to react instinctively, his hair standing on end.
"The sun pill!" Grimshaw frowned, unable to maintain his poker face.
Blackthorn, noticing Grimshaw's reaction, let out a cold chuckle. "I knew you would be displeased. However, I have chosen Owen as my right-hand man for the future."
"Right-hand man? My species' worst enemy? My natural foe?" Grimshaw's internal monologue screamed in protest.
Blackthorn, unfazed by Grimshaw's inner turmoil, reassured him, "Do not worry. I have moon pills as well, gifts from Ascendant centuries ago. They will grant you formidable strength in no time. Although I am not a werewolf, I have kept them stored."
"And remember, the reason I gave Owen the sun pill was to awaken his true power. Someone had sealed it, fearing his potential for greatness.
Now that I have unsealed it, he may face initial challenges, but his true beauty would break forth, and his true strength will emerge, making him a force to be reckoned with," Blackthorn explained.
"But lives will be lost in this process!" Grimshaw protested, his concern for others evident.
Blackthorn's voice turned cold and indifferent. "Do humans care about the lives they take? Do they not wage wars and kill each other even after claiming victory? No one truly cares about anyone else but themselves."
"However, Grimshaw, do not fret. You are now my precious asset. You are invincible from this point onward," Blackthorn assured him, his gaze piercing as he looked down at Grimshaw, who stood and offered a respectful bow.
"You may leave now," Blackthorn commanded, his sharp jawline and commanding presence emphasizing his authority and ruthlessness.
"Yes, my Lord!" Grimshaw responded, his layered haircut with subtle messiness and natural waves flickering before vanishing into thin air, disappearing from sight.