Raziel processed the word in milliseconds.
Regressor.
But something didn't add up cause if she was also a regressor, she would never have needed Aerion's blood.
She would know the future and she would know where the real power was, how to avoid every obstacle.
Seraphina was something else, a pawn of something bigger surely.
Lucian tensed his muscles at his side, fingers brushing the hilt of his ceremonial sword.
"Raziel," Lucian hissed between his teeth. "Give me the signal."
Raziel raised a hand, almost invisible, keeping him still.
Not yet.
Seraphina tilted her head, studying Raziel.
The ritual crystals pulsed around her, each beat synchronized with Aerion's weakened heart. The prince hung from the runic collar, skin pale, eyes barely open.
"Fascinating," murmured Seraphina. "How many times have you died, Raziel Celeste? How many times have you seen this moment and failed?"
Raziel didn't answer.
His mind was already racing at full speed, calculating.
