Arlon was more curious than ever.
At first, he'd only watched Asef's past out of necessity—trying to understand the source of his strength, or the roots of his hatred.
But now, it had become something else.
He didn't know the full truth yet, but one thing was clear: Asef had been deceived.
Not about everything—he had truly hated his brother—but that hate had been twisted, sharpened, directed.
Fanned by Hon's manipulations like a blacksmith stoking coals.
Asef might have hated Efsa already, but Hon had turned that flicker into an inferno.
Arlon had seen Efsa's life as well, watched the boy who once clung to his brother become the man the world revered.
And at this point in their respective paths, there was no doubt—Asef couldn't defeat him.
Not yet.
And Asef had to know that.
So what would he do?
Arlon watched as Asef wandered.
