=Elsewhere=
Malachar paced furiously across the hall of his mansion.
His fists were clenched so tightly that his nails had pierced his palms, drawing blood, yet he seemed completely unaware of the pain.
Caelen entered the hall and immediately felt the cold, oppressive aura surrounding his master.
The atmosphere was so tense that even the air seemed heavier than usual. He couldn't help but release a quiet sigh as he watched Malachar continue pacing.
The moment Malachar sensed his presence behind him, he abruptly turned around.
"You must get her for me." His voice was low, but the anger behind it was impossible to miss.
"Master, you have to calm down. You are almost losing your head over something that may not even be worth all this trouble."
Caelen tried to reason with him, but his words seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Rather, Malachar's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Who told you it isn't worth it?"
"It was mine and mine from the beginning. How dare she take what was mine?"
