Livia's gaze shifted slightly, and the corners of her lips curled into a calm yet dangerous smile. She lifted her chin, looking at the man before her—no longer a stranger—and said softly:
"Can't it be… for myself?"
Her voice was unhurried, yet there was a hidden sharpness beneath it—like a dagger wrapped in silk, ready to strike at any moment.
"Treasures have always belonged to those who have the power to claim them. Why can't I be the one to take it?"
There was no arrogance in her tone—only a trace of ironic confidence. The kind that comes from surviving countless lies and still daring to wager another chip.
"Speaking of which—" she paused, tilting her body slightly, as if extending an invitation, though her gaze remained fixed on his every move. "Why don't we form an alliance?"
"You know Eryx," she said offhandedly—though every word was a calculated probe. "He's not the kind of man who plays fair. You've seen it by now, haven't you? He'll betray you in the end."
As she spoke, she pulled a piece of yellowed cloth from inside her coat. The movement was natural, but carried a quiet precision, like it had been practiced.
"I even brought you a little gift."
She gave the cloth a flick, revealing a small, unimpressive stone wrapped inside. It looked entirely harmless—almost laughable—but her gaze remained calm and steady, as if this were the very core of the Holy Grail.
What she didn't say was this: before Emma left, she had used that very cloth to wipe the surface of the actual Grail fragment, allowing it to absorb a trace of divine energy. The stone now in it? Just a worthless rock picked up from the ground.
Jim accepted the bundle. The moment his fingers brushed the cloth, he froze slightly—there was a divine trace. Subtle, but real.
The cloth. The stone. Neither fake.
His gaze sharpened.
Had she acquired it herself—or tricked someone else into giving it up?
His mind raced, calculating at high speed, though a faint smile remained on his face. Of course he didn't trust Livia—but she wasn't bluffing without basis either.
He fell silent, rubbing the stone between his fingers. His confidence wavered.
Everything was happening too fast.
Livia's sudden appearance, followed by the presentation of this half-real, half-fake "evidence"—this wasn't the act of someone walking into death without a plan.
Yet after a brief hesitation, the smile on his lips slowly faded.
"You're right," he said. "Eryx isn't trustworthy."
Then his tone shifted—cold and clear:
"But you're even less so."
When he spoke, his face was unreadable. His eyes were like still water—silent and absolute.
"Why bother forming an alliance when I can just capture you right now and see what you're worth? Who knows—maybe if I hand you over to Eryx in secret, he'll even reward me for it. Isn't that right, my little noble lady?"
Though his voice was calm, it carried a decisive sharpness. He was done wavering.
Livia showed no sign of fear. Instead, she let out a low laugh, as if she had expected this all along.
"You're still the same…" she murmured.
She lifted her head, eyes clear and proud—like someone who had already won the round.
"I knew you wouldn't trust me. You never trusted anyone. But that's fine. I never planned to win this hand."
She paused for a heartbeat—then said:
"Actually, I lied to you earlier."
Her voice was flat, as if merely stating a trivial fact.
"I'm not here alone. I came with someone else. She's already escaped. By now, she's probably close to reaching Elias and Marcellus."
There was no fear in her tone—only a steady confidence.
"So if I don't walk out of here safely today, feel free to see what happens when Marcellus and Edgar's people storm in. Let's see if they don't take you down with me."
She paused again, watching as a shadow passed through Jim's expression—dark and heavy—then added casually:
"Eryx… he's not quite ready to start a war with Marcellus out in the open yet, is he?"
Cracks finally formed in Jim's composure. His brow tightened.
He couldn't tell if she was bluffing again—but this situation no longer allowed him the luxury of hesitation.
And just then—