Elsewhere inside a sealed chamber, Ulric stared at Greyson's figure in a far more frail state than he was a few minutes ago.
"Father?" he called out. Behind him stood Lyra and the rest of the elders.
"Ulric?" Greyson rasped dryly, his eyes sparkling faintly at the sight of the youth before him.
"If you can hold out a little longer…" Ulric muttered, his thoughts churning rapidly, trying to figure out ways to save him. He could amass more corruption points, or maybe even corrupt health potions to increase their potency. That would fix things for a while.
Before he could voice out the rest, Greyson breathed out heavily. "There's no need."
"But…"
Ulric muttered, about to protest again.
"I enter death joyful, knowing the fate of House Greyson is secured in the shadow of your unending greatness."
Taking a moment to process the words, Ulric nodded faintly before breathing slowly.
