Pyris could see the gears turning in Dracula's mind. The Vampire Emperor had hoped for more, but the risk of pushing too far was something even he couldn't ignore.
"Brat," Dracula finally said, his voice low and sharp. "You promised me something that could enhance my immortality and the armor. Are you going back on your word?"
Pyris chuckled lightly, his tone filled with calculated nonchalance. "Uncle, we both know the Chalice can do that. There's no mistaking on that. But like I said... it requires an immortal or a god to unlock its full potential. Iam but a mortal. I can't do that. Unless… you have an immortal on standby who can help you. If so, I'll gladly lend the Chalice to you. Let's see what you can create with it while dealing with an Immortal."
Dracula's teeth gnashed audibly, the sound carrying through the line. Pyris knew full well that no way would Dracula dare align himself with an Immortal—it would be suicidal. And Dracula knew it too.
