The moment he stepped out of the Hall of Suffering, Verillion still felt shaken.
Looking back at the wall inlaid with countless bones, he swallowed, the lingering fear plain in his eyes.
It couldn't be helped. The more noble and pure one's bloodline had once been, the more one revered order and rules!
And as the last surviving heir of the royal family, Verillion's fear of the Sirian Family had long been etched into his very bones.
The Sirian Family had been the foremost of the three great noble houses ruling this place since the days of the Aeldari Empire.
They had even once contended with the supreme overlord, Viktor, for control of Commorragh.
After this, Verillion was thoroughly impressed by Alvin.
What a badass!
In the past ten thousand years, there hadn't been a single human who dared threaten the Sirian Family!
But now there was one!
First he'd ransacked their factory, then gone straight to their territory and threatened them—only to walk away unharmed.
It was practically a miracle!
If the Dark Eldar believed in gods, he'd probably be burning incense for the departed Aeldari Gods right about now.
Of course, Verillion couldn't understand why Alvin had gone to such lengths, risking his life to meet the Sirian Family's leader, all for a meaningless promise.
What was the point?
He really wanted to ask Alvin what he hoped to accomplish.
He wasn't the only one wondering. The Succubus Anna couldn't understand Alvin's intentions either.
"Do you think there's no point in doing this?" Alvin glanced to the side and patted Verillion on the shoulder. "In Commorragh, a promise without an exchange of interests is meaningless, right?"
"N-no... I trust you. You must have a plan."
Verillion no longer had any of his earlier arrogance. His tone was ingratiating