Final Fight

Samael Astreas looked away from Varian. 

Eshala's blade was more than pissed off. As he was observing him for quite a while now, the 7th Prince was having second thoughts about this inexplicable tool.

'Is he really that pissed off because he couldn't establish Eshala's prestige?'

Something felt off. 

It was a very valid political reason for him to get pissed at. But somehow, his intuition disagreed.

This man was different. Somehow, anyhow. How, he had no idea. 

But the faint feeling of incongruence grew strong and stronger every time he saw Varian fight.

"Victor, what do you think about h—"

"Weird." 

"Hm?"

"That boy is weird. He's either hiding his strength or growing stronger. It should be the former. The latter makes no sense. But he's weird." 

Samael raised a brow. 

If he could have one person to judge people, it'd be Victor. He'd always been accurate in his readings.