Rafael had to admit that, for a moment just now, he had genuinely been nervous.
The pressure emanating from the young man across from him, the instant the other reached out, had almost made him think of Dartz. Yes, it was like when Rafael had been weak and had nothing, when he first met Lord Dartz—the overwhelming dominance that had seemed to blot out the sky.
But the next moment, he dismissed that absurd thought from his mind.
That was impossible.
He did not know where this person had come from or what he was capable of, but how could anyone possibly compare to Lord Dartz?
Besides, he was no longer the weak person he had been back then. Rafael believed that he had learned to be his own Master, to control the Inner Darkness within him. He would no longer be so easily seen through or manipulated.
He was now one of the noble Doma Three Musketeers, one of Lord Dartz's trump cards. The Inner Darkness he had once possessed had become his weapon. He would not be deceived by a method he knew best.
Rafael raised his head. "Who do you think I am? You think a little trick like this can—"
He did not get to finish. The next moment, Rafael's pupils contracted, and he froze in place with a look of shock.
Because Rafael saw the Graveyard?
A vast expanse of graves stretched as far as the eye could see. Thick fog obscured everything within, severely limiting visibility and making the cemetery seem endless.
A blond-haired boy ran out from the far side of the mist, entered the cemetery, knelt before several tombstones, and wept quietly.
That was the young Rafael, unable to accept the deaths of his family and unable to find the motivation or