The Discarded Husband: Lucian Vale - The sovereign Collector

Chapter 8

Aldric Stormbane stood calmly in front of the window of his study.

His hands were clasped behind his back, his fingers moving slowly—a sign that he was thinking hard.

Lucian Ravencroft was still alive.

Aldric turned his back from the window and faced Seraphina Dawncrest, who stood in the corner of the room.

The woman crossed her arms, her eyes staring at the floor with a vacant gaze that Aldric knew very well.

She was calculating.

“His Energy Magnet can deflect weapons,” said Aldric. “But it has limits. We only need to find a method that doesn’t involve direct attacks.”

Seraphina raised her head. The corners of her lips curved slightly.

“We’ve been approaching this from the wrong direction.” Her voice sounded flat, almost like someone who had just finished a long calculation.

“We keep trying to attack Lucian directly. But there’s another variable that is easier to reach and far more interesting to explore.”

Aldric waited.

“Amara Silverlight.” Seraphina spoke the name like someone naming a pawn on a chessboard.

“Her magical fluctuation is abnormal for an ordinary student."

"I received information that the healing potion Lucian wanted was given to that girl."

"Their relationship is not ordinary."

She stepped closer to the table, placing one finger on its edge.

“Perhaps that girl holds clues about Lucian’s abilities."

"Or at the very least, she can be used as sufficient pressure to make him act recklessly.”

Aldric was silent for a moment, studying Seraphina with an evaluating gaze.

This was not an approach he had considered before.

But that was precisely why Seraphina was useful—she could see the board from a different angle.

Aldric nodded once.

The corner of his lips lifted slightly.

---

The accusation was constructed neatly and quickly.

A high-level recovery potion was reported missing from the academy’s storage vault.

False witnesses had been prepared.

Fabricated evidence had been placed in the right locations.

When the academy’s enforcers arrived at the girls’ dormitory at dawn, only one name was written on the warrant—Amara Silverlight.

Three enforcers pushed open her door without knocking.

Amara was sitting on the edge of her bed, her eyes open.

As if she had already been waiting for them.

“Amara Silverlight.” The squad leader read the charge in a stiff, official tone.

“You are under arrest for the theft of high-level artifacts and potions belonging to the academy.”

Amara stood up slowly, without haste.

One second.

Two seconds.

Behind her calm eyes, there was a far more complex calculation than it appeared.

She sensed the magical fluctuations from the three enforcers in front of her...

The quality of the artifacts they carried...

The formation pattern already set in the outer corridor...

And whose name was most likely at the end of this order.

Seraphina Dawncrest.

Of course.

The girl shook her head several times. "No... It’s not like that. Theft? That’s impossible, I never—"

"Don’t lie!"

"But I really never—"

"Save your nonsense! Come with us now!"

Amara appeared slightly trembling before slowly extending both of her wrists forward.

“Alright,” she said softly. “I’ll come. I, I beg you don’t hurt me."

The squad leader didn’t care, he grabbed Amara roughly without any expression on his face.

Amara lowered her head.

Her shoulders trembled, anyone who saw her would think she was terrified to the point of tears.

But in truth, she was only thinking.

Inside her mind, one goal had already formed clearly.

She wanted to know how far Seraphina was willing to go.

And how much she could learn by letting that woman feel like she had already won.

***

The academy’s underground interrogation room was located twenty meters beneath the main building.

The air was damp and smelled of wet stone.

There were no windows.

A crystal lamp in the corner of the room emitted a dim bluish light, casting long shadows on the stone walls.

In the middle of the room stood a single iron chair and an empty table.

Amara was seated on the chair, her wrists bound with mana-suppressing chains.

The chains were cold and heavy, designed to suppress the flow of magic from within.

Quite effective for ordinary students.

But Amara only glanced at the chains briefly before shifting her gaze to the door.

The iron door at the end of the room opened...

Seraphina Dawncrest entered with measured steps—not rushed, not heavy.

She wore a dark gray academy robe, and in her hand was a long whip coiled, faintly glowing with dim purple mana.

A mana whip.

A weapon designed to strike directly at the nervous system, not merely the skin.

Seraphina stopped in front of Amara and looked her up and down.

“You know why you’re here,” she said.

Not a question.

Amara lifted her face and smiled for two seconds before shaking her head in panic.

"I... I really don’t know anything," she replied in a hoarse voice.

Seraphina’s jaw tightened slightly.

She would be a fool to be deceived by such cheap acting.

“You’ve become too involved with Lucian Ravencroft,” said Seraphina.

Her voice sounded almost warm, almost like a casual conversation between two old acquaintances. “That’s unnecessary. He’s already been discarded."

"He has no access, no faction, and no real future in this academy.”

Amara did not respond.

Seraphina continued, her tone unchanged.

“But you’re different. Your potential is real. The Stormbane faction can give you access to resources that man will never be able to provide.”

Seraphina placed her whip on the table, a gesture that appeared like goodwill.

“Tell me what you know about his ability."

"In return, tonight’s charges disappear, and there will be a proper place for you in our circle.”

Amara tilted her head slightly to the right.

Then she smiled again.

This time, her smile was wider.

She didn’t even bother acting anymore.

Seraphina picked up her whip again.

“You think this is funny?”

“No.” Amara answered for the first time.

Her voice was calm, almost friendly. “I’m just calculating how long you’ll maintain this approach before switching to the second method.”

Seraphina slammed the mana whip onto the floor.

A purple flash burst out, and the air in the room felt as if it was sucked out in a single instant.

Pain spread from the shackles on Amara’s wrists, crawling up to her shoulders, to her spine.

Amara bit her lip.

Her eyes blinked once.

But she did not speak.

Seraphina struck the whip a second time.

A third.

Mana surged through the binding chains with greater force, pressing against every nerve it could reach.

The room began to smell like burning copper, and Amara’s hair slightly rose from the electrical charge saturating the air.

Amara lowered her head.

Her hair fell, covering her face.

Behind that curtain of hair, her expression did not change—only more focused than before.

She was observing.

Recording.

Collecting every detail about how Seraphina moved...

How she channeled mana...

And how far this woman was willing to go tonight.

All of that information would be useful.

Seraphina took a breath, restraining the frustration that was beginning to surge beneath her cold gaze.

No one had ever responded to her interrogation like this before.

Not fear...

Not anger...

Only a calmness that felt like an insult.

“You don’t understand your position,” she said, her voice slightly louder than before.

In the academy corridor above, Lucian stopped walking.

Something pulsed inside his chest—not ordinary pain.

More like a thread being pulled from within his ribs, vibrating irregularly, repeatedly.

Resonance.

His golden eyes narrowed.

Within an invisible ledger that only he could see, a single number flickered in red.

Amara Silverlight’s Life Debt was fluctuating in an unstable pattern.

Like a heartbeat forced out of rhythm by external pressure.

This was not a minor fluctuation.

Someone was playing with it.