Third Person's POV
That sentence struck Mortimer's absolute, fatal weakness with pinpoint accuracy.
He shuddered. The thick wolf fur on his arms rapidly receded like the ebbing tide, and the terrifying, berserk aura vanished in an instant.
Deprived of his iron grip, Vivian collapsed onto the floor like a puddle of mud, clutching her throat and coughing violently.
Wilmot clicked his tongue silently in his mind.
As expected, only the name "Seraphina" works.
A massive amount of air suddenly poured back into her throat, choking Vivian. She coughed repeatedly, her legs so weak from pure terror that she could only slump on the floor.
The fear still lingering in the air made her tremble violently. But despite her panic, she hadn't missed the terrifying word Mortimer had just said—message?
