บท 442: The Netherworld's Threat

'Runeweaver? As Moira's family name?!'

His mouth hung open as thunder tumbled in his mind.

Then, his mind blanked, replaying his discussion with Elara.

'That's why she hates him! The genius' family split into two branches at some point. One chose alchemy, leading to Thurin's lineage. Meanwhile, the other continued to delve into enchanting, giving birth to Moira!'

The logical deduction opened a new door for his investigation. He didn't suspect Moira to know about him. She knew. It was now a certainty.

'I'll ask Shepard to pressure her like a lemon in the betting.'

He nodded, lowering his hat on his sparkling eyes, a smirk splitting his face as he resumed his walk to the duel desk.

Once behind, he gazed at his adversary's flowing blonde hair, green eyes, and violet uniform. The relief emblem embroidered on her chest and the thick grimoire resting on her leather belt intrigued him.