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Chapter 253: Arrogance, but with strength to back it up

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed, his voice echoing across the arena. The flames around him exploded outward, forcing Lucavion to back away momentarily. Joel's aura surged, his greatsword glowing with an intense, fiery light as he poured every ounce of his strength into his next move.

"This ends NOW!" Joel roared, his mana surging as he activated his most powerful technique. The air around him shimmered with heat as he combined his flame manipulation with a devastating spell—

Infernal Cataclysm

.

The ground beneath Joel cracked and blackened as the flames coalesced into a massive, swirling inferno around his greatsword. He raised the weapon high above his head, the mana within him surging to its peak as he prepared to unleash the devastating attack.

'Heh….you are finally using that move now.'

Though he heard the name from the novel, seeing it with his own eyes, it looked really cool.

Lucavion watched as the flames swirled around Joel, the sheer magnitude of the

Infernal Cataclysm

taking shape. The arena itself seemed to tremble under the pressure of the heat, cracks spreading across the ground, the air shimmering with the oppressive energy. Joel stood in the center of it all, his greatsword blazing like a second sun as he poured every ounce of his strength into the attack.

'Heh… so this is the

Infernal Cataclysm

,' Lucavion thought, his smirk deepening. He had read about this moment in the novel—the lone highlight of Joel Rythan's character. It was the only time Joel's name had any real weight in the story, and seeing it unfold now, Lucavion couldn't help but admire it.

'It looks even cooler in real life,' he mused. The sheer scale of the flames, the intensity of the mana—it was a spectacle, to say the least. Joel's mastery over the technique wasn't perfect, of course. The flames wavered at the edges, the balance of mana slightly uneven, but the sheer power of the move compensated for its flaws.

Lucavion shook his head, his smirk turning into an amused grin. "Finally," he said aloud, his voice calm but carrying across the arena. "Finally, someone who can get me serious. I was starting to get bored."

Joel's eyes narrowed, his frustration bubbling over as he gripped his blazing greatsword tighter. "Shut up with the bluff!" he roared, his voice cracking with exertion. "Let's see you laugh when you're ash!"

With that, Joel pushed the flames forward, the

Infernal Cataclysm

erupting in a massive wave of fire and destruction. The flames surged across the battlefield like an unstoppable tide, consuming everything in their path as they barreled toward Lucavion.

But Lucavion remained calm, his body steady as he closed his eyes, the smirk still lingering on his lips. The crowd gasped as the inferno bore down on him, the sheer force of it leaving no doubt in their minds that this was the end.

Joel grinned, victory already blossoming in his chest. "Burn, you arrogant—"

Lucavion shook his head, interrupting Joel's triumph with a quiet, almost playful tone. "Watch."

The flames surged closer, the heat now oppressive, but Lucavion didn't move. Instead, he opened his eyes, their calm, shadowy depths locking onto Joel's fiery gaze.

"You'll never see anything like this again," Lucavion said softly, his voice cutting through the roar of the flames.

And then he whispered, the words carrying an undeniable weight.

「

Annihilation Sword. Null Space.

」

And then…

It happened.

******

The moment the words left his lips, the circle around him flared to life. A shadowy, black-gray hue expanded outward, forming a perfect ring that pulsed with power. The flames, roaring and searing in their destructive force, met the edge of the circle—and then stopped.

For a moment, the flames seemed to hesitate, as if an invisible force had stolen their momentum. Then came the sound:

CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!

The fiery mana was sliced apart, disintegrating the instant it crossed into the circle. The inferno that had threatened to consume the arena was reduced to nothingness, its energy utterly obliterated as it entered the

Null Space

.

The crowd gasped, stunned into silence as they watched the impossible unfold. The massive wave of fire, Joel's strongest attack, was being erased before their very eyes.

But Lucavion wasn't motionless. Within the circle, he moved with incredible speed and precision, his estoc a blur as it cut through the flames with surgical accuracy.

To the untrained eye, it looked as though the

Null Space

was absorbing the fire on its own, but those who watched closely could see the faint glimmers of his blade moving, guiding the destruction with every calculated strike.

Joel's confidence faltered as the last of his flames vanished, leaving him standing alone in the aftermath. His greatsword, still glowing faintly, seemed to dim in his grip as the weight of his failure sank in.

Lucavion, his blade still surrounded by the dark, shadowy aura of his

Flame of Equinox

, began to move. With a fluid motion, he swept his estoc in a wide circle, the energy surrounding him condensing into a focused ring. The black-gray hue shimmered, absorbing the lingering embers and fragments of Joel's attack as if consuming the flames themselves.

"Impossible…" Joel muttered, his voice barely audible over the murmurs of the crowd. His eyes were wide with disbelief, his body trembling as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Lucavion finally lowered his blade, his shadowy aura fading into stillness. He turned his calm, unyielding gaze toward Joel, tilting his head slightly.

"I told you to watch," Lucavion said, his tone laced with both amusement and finality. "You'll never see anything like that again."

The crowd erupted into chaos, some cheering wildly, others too stunned to react. Joel, his greatsword trembling in his hands, took a step back, his confidence shattered. The gap between their skill, their control, and their very presence was now undeniable.

Lucavion sheathed his estoc with deliberate slowness, his movements a silent declaration of victory. Joel could only stare, his flames extinguished, his strongest move reduced to ash and memory.

The fight was over.

Joel's trembling hands tightened around the hilt of his greatsword as he stared at Lucavion, who now stood with an almost casual calmness, his estoc sheathed and his shadowy aura dissipating like a fading storm. The arena buzzed with chaos—cheers, gasps, and murmurs—but Joel could only hear the deafening silence of his own realization.

"I… I yield…" he said finally, his voice heavy with defeat. The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but what else could he do? Against an opponent like this, resistance was futile.

'I was wrong…

' he thought, his mind racing as fragments of the fight replayed themselves. He had underestimated Lucavion from the start, thinking his victories were nothing more than mind games and exploiting weaknesses in his opponents' composure. He had believed Lucavion thrived on manipulation alone.

But that assumption had been shattered. Joel now understood that this man wasn't just a strategist, nor was he merely opportunistic. He was something far more terrifying.

Joel's breaths came shallow and uneven as he struggled to process what he had just experienced. Lucavion's movements—the ease with which he evaded every attack, the way he danced along the edge of the blade, taking risks no sane fighter would take—all of it defied reason.

He fought like someone who didn't care about his life at all, someone who thrived on pushing himself to the absolute limit, balancing on a razor's edge with an almost reckless grace.

Joel had never encountered anything like it.

"That's why…" Joel muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed on Lucavion. "That's why they fear you…"

The words spilled from his lips before he could stop them, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and horror. "You're… you're a demon."

Lucavion's calm, piercing eyes flicked toward him, and Joel felt a chill run down his spine. He wasn't sure if Lucavion had heard him, but it didn't matter. He now understood why people were so afraid of this man.

"...A Sword Demon," Joel whispered, the realization settling in like a heavyweight.

It wasn't something the audience could grasp, nor was it something that could be explained to someone who hadn't faced Lucavion directly.

Only those who stood against him on the battlefield could feel the full extent of his presence—the fearless, unrelenting force that made him seem less like a man and more like a devil wielding a blade.

"Sword Demon…."

And that was the starting point of this nickname.

Joel staggered backward, the weight of his defeat pressing down on him. He had given everything, and still, it hadn't been enough. He had been utterly outclassed by a fighter who played with danger as if it were a game, who wielded his blade with a precision that bordered on inhuman.

And he understood.

'I can never become someone like him.'

He didn't have what it took.

The crowd roared, the announcer's voice booming over the noise as Lucavion's victory was declared. But Joel barely heard it. He turned, his steps heavy as he made his way out of the arena, one thought repeating in his mind.

'This man… he's not a phantom. He's a demon in the guise of a swordsman.'

Chapter 254: Late

The Marquis Ventor watched the conclusion of the fight with unblinking intensity, his wineglass untouched as the echoes of the arena roared in his ears. He leaned forward slightly in his seat, his sharp eyes locked on Lucavion, who stood in the center of the battlefield, his presence a mixture of quiet calm and overwhelming dominance. The young swordsman didn't bask in the glory or look to the crowd for adulation—his victory spoke for itself.

Ventor exhaled slowly, setting his glass down with deliberate care. His lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes betrayed the depth of his thoughts.

This kid… no, this young man…

The power, precision, and sheer audacity Lucavion had displayed in dismantling Joel's

Infernal Cataclysm

left no doubt in the Marquis's mind. This wasn't just talent—this was the kind of raw, undeniable brilliance that came along once in a generation, perhaps even less. His earlier skepticism about Lucavion, born of the young man's provocative nature and his public taunts toward the Cloud Heavens Sect, now seemed almost laughable.

I hesitated too long,

Ventor thought, shaking his head.

A fool's mistake.

Initially, the Marquis had held back, wary of Lucavion's antics and the potential fallout of backing someone who had openly antagonized a powerful sect. It was risky to align with such a figure, especially when the tournament had already been steeped in tension between the sects. But now, watching this young man carve through an elite disciple like Joel Rythan with an ease that bordered on mockery, Ventor knew hesitation was no longer an option.

"This talent… it cannot be missed," Ventor murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the cheering crowd. His decision crystallized as he rose from his seat, his expression composed but his gaze sharper than ever.

He turned to his attendant, who had been standing dutifully nearby, observing the Marquis's reactions throughout the fight. "You," Ventor said, his tone brisk but laden with authority. The attendant straightened immediately, awaiting his orders.

"Find him," Ventor commanded, his voice low but firm. "Lucavion. Extend an offer—no, a personal invitation to meet with me. I want him brought to my estate after the tournament."

As the arena's uproar continued, Marquis Ventor sat back down, his mind already planning his next move. It wasn't enough to simply summon Lucavion to his estate; this young man was sharp, perceptive, and undoubtedly wary of those who might seek to use him. The Marquis would have to approach with delicacy, offering not intimidation, but opportunity—hospitality paired with undeniable benefits.

If I try to force his hand, he'll slip away. He's not the type to bow to pressure,

Ventor thought, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his chair.

No, this requires finesse. Let him feel welcomed, respected. Let him see what aligning with me could offer.

His attendant returned swiftly, his steps measured but purposeful. "Marquis, the arrangements have been made. A messenger will deliver your invitation personally. Lucavion will be informed discreetly once his match concludes."

Ventor nodded, his gaze still fixed on the now-empty arena. "Good. Ensure the invitation is formal but inviting. Emphasize that this is a gesture of respect, not a demand."

"Yes, Marquis," the attendant said with a bow.

"And," Ventor added, his tone sharpening, "have the estate prepared. The finest accommodations, food, and drink. Spare no expense. I want him to see the full extent of what I can offer."

The attendant hesitated for only a moment. "And if he declines, my lord?"

Ventor's lips curved into a faint, calculating smile. "He won't. Not after today's performance. Talent like his… it's drawn to opportunity, to influence. I will ensure he sees me not as a threat, but as a benefactor."

The Marquis rose from his seat, adjusting his cloak as he glanced toward the attendants still stationed in the private lounge. "Make it clear that he is a guest of honor. Treat him with the same respect you would afford me."

******

Later that evening, as the tournament matches concluded, Lucavion found himself approached by a well-dressed messenger. The man bowed respectfully before handing him a finely crafted scroll sealed with the sigil of House Ventor.

"Sir Lucavion," the messenger said, his tone warm and polite, "the Marquis extends his personal invitation to you. He wishes to discuss matters of mutual interest and has prepared a welcome for you at his estate."

Lucavion accepted the scroll, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as he studied the messenger. "Mutual interest, you say? That's vague. Care to elaborate?"

The messenger offered a practiced smile. "The Marquis believes in recognizing exceptional talent. He admires your performance today and wishes to explore how he might support your endeavors. You will find the details within the invitation."

Lucavion's smirk flickered as he broke the seal and skimmed the scroll. It was as the messenger had said—a formal yet inviting request for an audience, with an emphasis on partnership and opportunity. No threats, no veiled demands—just respect wrapped in careful diplomacy.

He handed the scroll back to the messenger. "Tell your Marquis I'll think about it."

The messenger bowed again, his demeanor unchanged. "Of course. Should you accept, the estate will be ready to welcome you at any time."

As the messenger departed, Lucavion glanced over to where Valeria stood nearby, watching the interaction with a raised brow. "Looks like someone's caught the Marquis's eye," she remarked, her tone teasing but curious.

Lucavion chuckled, tucking the scroll into his cloak. "Can't say I'm surprised."

After all, being in this world for a long time, he had already understood the laws of the world. That is why he already knew that Marquis would send an invitation like this.

Lucavion leaned back against the wall of the preparation room corridor, turning the scroll over in his hands as his thoughts drifted inward. The Marquis Ventor, a figure he barely recalled from the novel—mentioned only in passing—had sent him a personal invitation. It wasn't surprising, not after today's fight, but the implications carried weight.

'The Marquis,' he thought, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at the seal. 'Someone with barely any role in the original story. A name on the sidelines was mentioned just enough to remind the reader that Andelheim's politics existed but was never significant enough to matter. Yet here he is, extending this invitation.'

Lucavion's smirk flickered briefly, but his expression remained contemplative. This wasn't just an invitation. It was a statement.

By sending this letter, the Marquis had done more than acknowledge Lucavion's talent—he had weighed him against the Cloud Heavens Sect and found Lucavion of greater interest. For a figure of Ventor's stature, this wasn't a casual gesture. The fact that the Marquis didn't fear retaliation from the sect for aligning with someone who had openly antagonized them spoke volumes. It meant Ventor saw potential in him that outweighed the risks, a gamble that Lucavion found both bold and intriguing.

'So, you're willing to take my side, even after I provoked one of the most influential sects in the Empire,'

Lucavion mused, tucking the scroll into his cloak.

'That's not just recognition. That's defiance. He's already drawn a line without even saying it outright.'

After all, it appeared that his efforts to undermine the Cloud Heavens Sect's reputation seemed to be working just as he had intended.

'Soon, you will all lose your prestige.'

They were people who were like a virus in this world, and that is why they needed to be removed.

And for that cause, he was not going to stop for a long time.

As Lucavion tucked the scroll into his cloak, Valeria stepped closer, her gaze steady but curious. She crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly as she regarded him. "So," she began, her voice even, "are you planning to join the Marquis? It seems… unlike you."

Lucavion chuckled softly, leaning back against the stone wall with his characteristic nonchalance. "Join?" he repeated as if amused by the choice of word. He met her gaze, the glint of amusement never leaving his eyes. "For someone of a Marquis's caliber, I don't have much choice, do I? At the very least, I need to show some respect. Not all influential people are like the Cloud Heavens Sect."

Valeria's brow furrowed briefly, then she nodded, her expression thoughtful. "That's true," she said slowly. "Not everyone wields their power so… carelessly." But inwardly, she couldn't shake the strange feeling creeping over her.

'He's already being courted by someone like Ventor.'

The thought sat uneasily in her mind.

'Lucavion, the reckless swordsman who bribes his way through lines and acts like nothing's a big deal… already gaining recognition at this level?'

Her gaze flicked to him again, studying his relaxed posture, his faint smirk as if nothing truly fazed him. But there was something else beneath his casual demeanor, something sharp and deliberate that she'd seen flashes of during his fights.

'It's not just luck or bravado, is it? He's calculated, even when he pretends not to be. That's why he's here. That's why people like the Marquis see his value. Still… it's strange to think of him being in this position.'

Lucavion noticed her silence and raised an eyebrow. "What? Surprised?" he teased lightly, his smirk widening. "Don't tell me you thought I'd go unnoticed forever."

Valeria huffed softly, a faint glimmer of amusement breaking through her contemplative expression. "Not unnoticed, no. But… this," she gestured vaguely toward his cloak, where the scroll was tucked away, "it's happening faster than I expected."

Lucavion shrugged, his tone casual. "The world moves fast when you make it." He straightened slightly, his gaze briefly serious. "Besides, recognition like this isn't about me. It's about what I've done, who I've crossed. People like Ventor—they don't just look for talent. They look for pieces to move on their board."

Valeria tilted her head, watching him carefully. "And are you planning to be one of those pieces?"

His smirk softened, a hint of something more genuine in his expression. "Depends. Sometimes being a piece is the best way to flip the whole board."

Her lips quirked into a small, reluctant smile. "That sounds like you."

Lucavion chuckled, pushing off the wall and turning toward the corridor leading out of the preparation room. "Get used to it, Olarion. The world's going to see a lot more of me soon."

Chapter 255: Can't win

"Get used to it, Olarion. The world's going to see a lot more of me soon."

Valeria watched Lucavion turn, his figure retreating down the corridor with that same easy confidence he always carried. Without hesitation, she stepped forward, falling into stride beside him.

Lucavion glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his smirk softening into something closer to curiosity. "Following me now, are you?" he teased. "What's the matter, Olarion? Second thoughts about the semifinals already?"

She rolled her eyes lightly. "Hardly. But speaking of preparation, are yours ready?" His tone was casual, but the subtle edge in his question betrayed genuine concern.

Valeria nodded, her expression calm but purposeful. "They are. While you were fighting and soaking in the Marquis's attention," she added with a faint smirk, "I was taking care of what I needed. I've been to the Awakened Market and the guild, gathering supplies."

Lucavion's brow lifted slightly. "Supplies?"

"For the breakthrough," she clarified. Her voice was steady, but there was a quiet resolve beneath it. "Someone like you might walk into advancement like it's just another sparring match, but for the rest of us, it takes more."

He chuckled, but the amusement in his tone was muted. "You're not wrong. What did you pick up, then? Let me guess—a few mana stones, some herbs?"

"More than that," Valeria said, her gaze focused ahead as they walked. "Mana stones are a given, yes, but there are specific herbs that help refine the flow of mana during a breakthrough. Stabilizing the energy is key." She glanced at him briefly. "And I've been working on forming an array."

"An array, huh?" Lucavion's tone carried a faint note of approval. "Someone's been busy."

"I've been stuck at this level for a long time," she admitted, her steps steady as they neared the exit of the preparation area. "I've had plenty of time to research and plan. I know exactly what I need to make sure my foundation as a 4-star is stable."

"Heh….Not bad."

Lucavion nodded at her words, his tone carrying a rare, thoughtful weight. "That makes sense," he said. "If I were in your place, stuck at a bottleneck for as long as you've been… I'd probably go all out too. Spend every waking moment trying to figure out the key, testing every lead." He smirked, his tone shifting back to his usual lightheartedness. "Too bad I've never had the pleasure of being stuck."

Valeria's eyes rolled reflexively, the gesture exasperated but tinged with the familiarity of their exchanges. "Of course, you haven't," she said dryly. "Must be nice to be Lucavion, the ever-so-perfect prodigy who never struggles."

Lucavion chuckled, leaning slightly toward her, his voice dropping just enough to make her lean in, curious. "Oh, don't worry, Olarion," he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. "While you're sleeping peacefully tonight, dreaming of arrays and mana stones, I'll be busy making sure nothing disturbs you."

Valeria's pace faltered for a split second before she stopped entirely, her sharp glare locking onto Lucavion. "Why do you keep calling me that?" she snapped, her voice sharper than intended. "Olarion. Not Valeria. Olarion. What's the deal?"

Lucavion paused mid-step, his smirk deepening with delight at her sudden burst of irritation. "Why?" he echoed, feigning innocence. "Oh, you mean

Lady Olarion

!

The Pink Knight!

" He mimicked the tournament announcer's dramatic inflection, raising his arms grandly as if addressing a massive crowd. "The unstoppable noble, shining beacon of knightly honor, and—my personal favorite—slayer of scowls!"

Valeria's jaw tightened, her irritation only growing as he continued. "You think you're funny?" she muttered, her arms crossed.

"Absolutely," Lucavion said, his grin widening. He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "But really, you seemed to like it. I saw you smile when you heard the announcer the first time, even if you tried to hide it. So, I thought, why not keep it going? I mean, Lady Olarion—has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Valeria's glare intensified, her eyes narrowing into slits. "I did

not

smile," she retorted, her tone cutting.

Lucavion tilted his head, his expression daring. "Oh, but you did. A little. Right there." He tapped the corner of his mouth, his gesture teasing but precise.

"You're imagining things," she snapped, her face flushing faintly.

Lucavion chuckled, clearly enjoying himself as he straightened up. "Maybe I am. Or maybe you're just annoyed because I caught on to something you didn't even realize about yourself."

Valeria exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to throttle him. "Call me Valeria," she demanded, her voice firm and uncompromising. "Or don't call me anything at all."

"All right, Valeria, since you asked so nicely."

Lucavion's smirk softened into something almost polite as he spoke, his voice laced with faux sincerity. "How could I refuse? A lady's wish to be called by her name? That would be utterly rude of me." His words carried just enough charm to make Valeria bristle.

Before she could retort, he leaned in closer, his presence brushing just inside her personal space. The world around them seemed to be still as his voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper. "But," he murmured, his tone almost playful, "make sure you don't go around asking anyone else to call you by your name. People might… misunderstand."

Then, with deliberate subtlety, he let out a warm breath near her ear.

The sensation sent a shiver down Valeria's spine before she could stop it. Her eyes widened, betraying her surprise as she instinctively turned to glare at him.

Lucavion straightened slightly, and there it was—that infuriating smirk that said he knew exactly what he'd done. His gaze met hers, steady and unyielding, his next words wrapped in mischief. "And I might get a little jealous if that were to happen."

Valeria blinked, her expression shifting from shock to annoyance, her fists clenching tightly at her sides. "You are insufferable," she hissed, her tone deadly.

Lucavion chuckled, taking a casual step back as if to admire his handiwork. "Maybe. But you haven't walked away yet, Valeria," he teased, her name rolling off his tongue with practiced ease.

Her jaw tightened, and her glare sharpened. "That's because I don't want you thinking you've won."

"Oh, but I always win," he said, his smirk as irrepressible as ever. He gestured ahead with an exaggerated flourish. "Shall we continue,

Valeria

? Or would you prefer I go back to 'Lady Olarion'?"

She stormed past him, her cheeks faintly pink as she muttered under her breath. "Just walk."

'This guy….'

Valeria strode ahead, her steps brisk and purposeful, trying desperately to focus on anything but the rapid thudding in her chest. The faint heat still lingering at her ear, the smug look on his face, his infuriating words—everything replayed in her mind like an unwanted echo.

'This guy… what is wrong with him?'

she thought, her fists clenched tightly at her sides as she pushed through the city streets. Her jaw tightened further as she tried to shake the feeling away.

'He's just teasing me. Again. That's all it is.'

But the loud, persistent thumping in her chest refused to quiet, a rhythm so intrusive it drowned out the sounds of the bustling crowd around them.

'No. This is ridiculous.'

She scowled, her focus shifting to the uneven cobblestones beneath her feet.

'I am not letting him get under my skin. He's Lucavion, for stars' sake. The most insufferable, egotistical, smug—'

"Careful, Valeria," Lucavion's voice cut through her thoughts, rich with amusement. "You might burn a hole in the ground with that glare."

She snapped her head toward him, startled that he'd noticed her distraction. Her heart gave a treacherous leap, and she quickly turned away again, schooling her features into an unbothered mask. "I wasn't glaring," she retorted sharply, though her voice betrayed a slight edge of defensiveness.

"Oh?" His tone was light, teasing, and he was clearly enjoying himself. "You had the look of someone plotting an elaborate assassination attempt."

'He's so full of himself.'

Valeria shot him a sideways glance, her expression a mixture of annoyance and resolve.

'If he knew what he just did, he'd never let me hear the end of it. I refuse to give him the satisfaction.'

Lucavion, still smirking, stepped into pace beside her, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. "You know," he began, his voice almost conversational, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding looking at me."

Her steps faltered for a split second, and she clenched her teeth in frustration. "Don't flatter yourself," she snapped, quickening her stride again.

'Just ignore him, Valeria. Ignore him and keep walking.'

But her heart betrayed her again, thumping harder at the memory of his breath so close to her ear, the low timbre of his voice.

'Ugh, why is this happening now?'

Lucavion hummed thoughtfully beside her, as if pondering something profound. "You're right. You'd never avoid me." He glanced at her sidelong, his smirk softening just enough to look playful instead of taunting. "After all, where's the fun in running away?"

Valeria's eyes darted to him despite herself, her cheeks still faintly pink. "Run away?" she repeated incredulously. "From

you

? Don't be ridiculous."

His grin widened. "Ah, so I'm not imagining things—you

do

like my company."

'He's doing it on purpose. He's baiting me.'

Valeria let out a sharp breath, focusing on the path ahead.

'If I say anything, he wins. If I stay silent, he still wins. There's no winning with this guy!'

But for all her irritation, she couldn't stop the faint fluttering in her chest that followed his words.

'Focus, Valeria. Just focus. You have bigger things to worry about. Like the breakthrough.'

She straightened her shoulders, forcing her voice to remain steady. "If I'm walking with you, it's because we're heading to the same place. Don't read into it."