Kael’s statement carried no haste, nor exaggerated triumph—just a calm, almost administrative observation, like someone who concludes one stage and immediately moves on to the next without dramatization. The hall, though still marked by deep cracks, displaced surfaces, and a residual feeling of pressure, had regained a minimum of stability, enough to support what was to come. And that, for him, was enough.

Before turning his attention to the two sealed ones, Kael glanced at Exelia.

She still maintained her firm posture, blade in hand, but now that the direct confrontation had ceased, small signs were becoming more evident—her breathing slightly heavier than normal, the arm that had absorbed part of Vlad’s impact still carrying residual tension, invisible micro-fissures in the way her energy circulated after so many high-precision movements under constant pressure.

Nothing incapacitating.

But also... not negligible.

Kael said nothing immediately. She simply raised her hand again, this time without any offensive weight, without imposition. The gesture was light, almost casual, but the effect was immediate. Subtle lines of energy formed around Exelia, not as rigid structures, but as a continuous, smooth flow that adjusted to her body with absurd precision.

It wasn’t an explosion of healing.

It was refinement.

The energy coursed through her muscles, reorganizing small tensions, stabilizing what had been forced beyond the ideal, eliminating accumulated impact residue. The process wasn’t visible to anyone not paying attention, but for Exelia—it was immediate.

The residual pain simply... ceased to exist.

She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a brief second, just enough to acknowledge the effect before opening them again. There was no surprise.

Only acceptance.

"Thank you," she said simply, already slightly adjusting her posture as if returning to her ideal state.

Kael made a small gesture with his hand, discarding formality, before finally turning his gaze forward.

To the two cubes.

To the two problems.

And, most importantly—

To the woman.

He took a few slow, controlled steps forward until he stopped a comfortable distance from the larger cube. His expression was no longer analytical in the same way as before. Now there was something more direct, more objective. The conflict had already passed the point of discovery.

All that remained was... to extract answers.

He tilted his head slightly, observing her through the perfect surface of the structure that contained her, as if assessing not her strength, but her willingness.

"So," he began, his voice calm, almost too casual for the context, "how long do you think it will take you to decide to cooperate?"

A short pause.

His eyes did not leave hers.

"And, most importantly... where is the Vampire Queen?"

The silence inside the cube was not immediate, but it did not last long either. The woman remained exactly as she was, without altering her posture, without showing any visible discomfort with the arrest. The shadows still moved slowly around her, now in a much more restrained way, but they hadn’t stopped.

She was still... thinking.

Or, perhaps—

Deciding how worthwhile it was to answer.

When she spoke, her voice came out as steady as before, without echo, without distortion, as if Kael’s own structure recognized the integrity of what was being said.

"I don’t have to tell you anything."

Simple.

Direct.

Without provocation.

Without exaggerated resistance.

Just... refusal.

Kael observed her for another second.

And then—

He sighed.

Not in frustration.

But in confirmation.

Like someone who already expected exactly that answer and only needed to hear it to proceed.

"Of course," he murmured, lightly running a hand over his chin, thoughtful for a moment. "It would be strange if it were easy."

He then turned his head slightly.

Looking at Exelia.

And, for the first time since the end of the battle, there was a very subtle trace of humor in his gaze.

Not slight.

But... functional.

"Are you good at torture?" he asked, as if asking something practical, without any moral weight involved, just efficiency.

Exelia didn’t hesitate.

Not for a second.

Her smile returned.

Small.

Sharp.

But this time... more evident.

"Excellent," she replied, with a tranquility that contrasted perfectly with the content of the sentence.

The hall fell silent for a moment.

Not the tense silence of battle.

But a silence... different.

Colder.

More direct.

Because, at that moment—

It became clear.

The fight was over.

But the real work—

Was only beginning.

Six hours were enough to completely transform the atmosphere of the hall.

What had once been a collision course between absurd forces had now become something much quieter—and, in a way, more disturbing. The physical destruction was still there: the uneven floor, the deep cracks, the partially compromised columns. But what truly weighed on the atmosphere was something else.

Persistence.

Time had passed.

And with it, resistance had also been tested... to extreme limits.

Inside the cube, the woman no longer resembled the figure that had confronted Kael at the beginning. Her posture, once perfectly aligned and controlled, was now compromised. Not completely slumped, because the very structure of the prison held her in position, but there was an evident weight there—not physical, but structural.

The shadows around her still existed.

But they were... weakened.

Not in the sense of disappearing, but of losing density, coherence. They no longer moved with that calculated precision, nor did they respond with the same speed. Instead, they flowed slowly, like something that had been pushed beyond its limits repeatedly and now operated at the bare minimum necessary to continue existing.

Her body bore the clear signs of what had happened.

Marks.

Not simple cuts or superficial wounds, but repeated damage, applied intentionally, partially removed, and then... applied again. A meticulous, controlled cycle, where each intervention by Exelia did not seek to kill—but to keep her on the edge.

Between resistance and collapse.

The woman’s face, once completely neutral, now showed small flaws. No open expressions of pain, no screams or loss of control—that never happened. But there were micro-tensions, minute imperfections in the absolute control she had demonstrated before.

And yet—

She hadn’t said anything.

Not a useful word.

Not a slip.

Not a single piece of information.

Nothing.

Exelia stood a few steps from the cube, slowly wiping the blade with a dark cloth, her movements calm, precise, almost methodical. There was no hurry, no visible frustration. Just... job done.

But her eyes—

Those remained attentive.

Assessing.

Because even in that state—

The woman was not yet broken.

Kael watched in silence.

For longer than seemed necessary.

His eyes scanned not only her physical state, but her entire being—how her energy still held, how her mind hadn’t yet given way, how, even in that condition—

She still resisted.

And that, finally—

Leaded to a different conclusion.

He let out a light, almost inaudible sigh, crossing his arms in a relaxed manner, but with his gaze still fixed on her.

"Well...," he murmured, in a low tone, more reflective than anything else, "that was more efficient than I expected... in some respects."

He tilted his head slightly.

"At least now you’re weak enough."

A short pause.

And then—

He finished, with absolute nonchalance:

"It can be done the easy way."

The words carried no threat.

But the meaning—

Was clear.

And, for the first time since the beginning—

There was a real reaction.

Not physical.

But emotional.

Her eyes changed.

Not exaggeratedly, not with open panic, but there was an immediate contraction, a different focus, an urgency that hadn’t existed before.

Because that—

She understood.

Perfectly.

Before Kael could even raise his hand again, before any structure began to form, before any sign of magic was visible—

She acted.

It was quick.

Faster than any previous attempt at resistance.

Her jaw clenched violently, the movement abrupt, direct, without hesitation—not an attack, not a defense—

But a choice.

Final.

Her teeth closed with enough force to crush her own tongue, a brutal, definitive gesture, aimed at cutting off any possibility of mental interference before it even began.

But—

She didn’t finish.

Because Kael was already there.

Not physically.

But structurally.

Her movement simply... stopped.

It didn’t slow down.

It wasn’t impeded by a visible force.

It just—

Frozen.

The space around her body solidified into an absolute state, not like visible ice, but like a complete suspension of movement. Every muscle, every impulse, every neural reaction—

Interrupted.

At the exact point.

Her teeth didn’t quite close completely.

Her tongue wasn’t bitten.

The act—

Was negated.

Kael kept his hand slightly raised, observing the result with his usual calm, as if it were just another predicted variable being neutralized.

His eyes remained on her.

Now without analysis.

Without curiosity.

Just execution.

"No," he said, simply. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

There was no raised voice.

Nor irritation.

But there was something undeniable there—

Absolute control.

He tilted his head slightly, studying her expression, now frozen in that instant of contained despair, that small fragment of reaction that had finally escaped after hours of absolute silence.

And, this time—

He smiled.

Not slightly.

Not casually.

But... satisfied.

"Now that’s more like it," he murmured.

And then—

He took another step forward.

Because, finally—

She had shown fear.

And that—

Changes everything.