Adrien sighed loudly. "I… I struck you with a pure silver blade because you are such a wicked and cruel demon." Adrien seethed, matching the cold words of his father. "You hate me, so it was only fair I hate you in return!" He yelled, his voice echoing in rage.
Adria nodded his head as he stretched his hand toward Dracula, his gaze never leaving his son.
With a swift motion, the sword that was on the ground suddenly flew toward his hands, and he swiftly grabbed it.
With a resigned sigh, Adrien extended his hand, his fingers curling into a beckoning gesture.
In an instant, the fallen sword answered the call, levitating from its resting place and gliding into his waiting grasp with supernatural swiftness.
"What did you expect from me, Dad?" Adrien inquired as he arched his brows at his father.
"I expected you to be of good morals, Adrien." He stated with a flat voice.