Urvan was terrified.
Summoned by Ivan to a secluded chamber beneath an old, crumbling house, he could feel the weight of fear pressing down on him. Urvan had always been afraid of Ivan, despite the deep respect he held for him. Ivan was the force that had driven Gevurah to greatness—conquering villages, towns, and now even an entire Empire, one of the most strongest on the Holy Continent.
Ivan had the respect from everyone in Gevurah; his value was unquestionable. It was no surprise that the Father had entrusted Camelot, the very heart of Britannia, into Ivan's capable hands. That was the level of trust he inspired.
And he deserved it.
Urvan had seen the transformation of Camelot with his own eyes. The once ugly city of Arthur Pendragon now bore an otherworldly aura, almost as if Seraphiel himself had laid a divine hand upon it. But despite the awe and reverence, Urvan's fear of Ivan had only deepened—especially after sensing the monstrous aura of Ivan's Stigma.
