"So, Sylvathar has made landfall on Amthar," Tharion said, his voice even, though a shadow of suspicion lingered beneath it. "And he's giving his blood to those desperate or reckless enough to crave more power?"
"Precisely," Lucy replied, her tone sharp yet composed. "And once he amasses enough of these Gaia-infused hybrids, he intends to return to the Demon Realm—with a new force under his command—to challenge the established order and rise in their hierarchy."
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking onto Tharion's. "And before you even entertain the thought that we fabricated this to bind Solara or Crescent into an alliance, I'd advise you to reconsider. This information came directly from a demon Galen Magna killed not long ago. Under duress, it spoke—before it died."
A tense silence followed. Tharion's gaze turned inward, clearly processing, calculating.
"I see," he said at last. "Then tell me—how do you propose we handle this? Together."
