Vaelyth looked at Monica, and a trace of worry and fear flickered in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared.
Valen sneered and said, "Don't think I don't know anything. Your real soul is inside this girl—if I kill her, your power will be reduced by half."
"Why don't we make a deal? You let my Master leave this place, and I let you keep your soul, how about that?"
"Human..." Vaelyth spoke, her voice as cold as a mountain sealed in ice for over ten thousand years: "Do you even know who you're talking to?"
"Of course I do, but..." Valen seemed unfazed, still smiling as usual: "Your soul is in my hands—you'd better think this through carefully."
Vaelyth clenched her teeth, her hands tightening until they turned pale. Her beautiful face was filled with fury, and her eyes looked like they were about to burst into flames.
If looks could kill, Valen would have died a thousand times already.
"Let her go, and I'll let your Master leave," Vaelyth said.
