Albert tensed further. He could see it now—Max was cracking.
The strain was beginning to show. With his own son summoned into the tournament and his closest allies gone, Max was unraveling under the pressure. Provoking him would only fan the flames of that instability. But Albert also knew Max well enough—mad or not, he still clung to his moral compass, till his death. That was how their leader was, even in the battle room.
"We're both out of the tournament, Albert," Max said, his voice cool but trembling with intensity. "I don't care who ends up on top between us. But tread carefully... I'm watching you."
Albert's lip curled into a half-smile. "You can't protect them forever, Max. Let's say—just for a moment—that Victor was right. You know what that means... for Julian and Edward."
Max froze. The Second Summon.
