Cursed Lycan's Scarred Mate
Chapter 93: Tampering with the Triune Circle

Chapter 93: Tampering with the Triune Circle

After eavesdropping on the discussion held by the council gathering, Soran wasn’t quite prepared to let his efforts with Vivian thus far go to waste.

One way or another he needed to ensure that Lady Morgana did not proceed with the ritual binding; however, the old witch was as stubborn as a mule.

Nothing would change her mind or her decision.

Even if he thought up some logical reason not to proceed with the ritual binding, Lady Morgana would not listen to reason.

Hence, Soran decided to opt for a different approach.

If he couldn’t prevent the binding ritual, then the next best course of action would be to sabotage the entire magical procedure.

And with no time to waste, Soran made his way to the Coven’s official ritual chamber. Compared to the desolate, abandoned one he lured Vivian into before, this ritual chamber was far grander.

The space was reinforced with ancient spells and runes and the very air itself was magic, thus making it difficult for Wickans of lesser ranks to enter unless granted access by the Coven Master.

And Soran, being the second in rank to Lady Morgana, was not tied down by restrictions.

Even if he was limited in access like the lesser Wickans, he would have used the means of dark arts to force his way through.

Once determined, Soran never abandoned or backed down from achieving his goals.

He was cautious on his way, using shadowcraft techniques to blend himself in with the shadows as camouflage.

He slipped by other Wickans unnoticed until he reached the inside of the ritual chamber, which was only accessible by Coven Masters.

The chamber was empty as of now, except for the latent magic in the air and the intricate Triune Circle already carved on the stone floor in the middle by white chalk.

The circle glowed faintly, each line drawn with careful precision to ensure that the flow of energy would not be disrupted.

There were three anchors drawn into the Triune Circle—symbols for unity, balance, and control.

And Soran had no intention of leaving them untouched.

Crouching down near the symbol of balance, his lips curled upwards into a subtle smirk. Like any other Wickan, he truly admired the handiwork and appeal of the Triune Circle’s design, hence all the more reason to tamper with it.

Soran always liked the way beautiful things were driven to corruption.

Just recalling the amount of times Lady Morgana chewed off the entire Covens’ ears for the destruction of her flowerbeds was entertaining.

In truth, it was Soran who often enjoyed corroding the petals in those flowerbeds with dark magic until they withered away from the stems and the roots turned to ash.

Shaking his head out of those thrilling memories, Soran decided not to dwell far longer than necessary in the ritual chambers.

After all, there was a certain troublesome Wickan wandering around the estate.

Soran retrieved a vial of dark liquid from the confines of his coat. The liquid swirled with faint specks of red, a concoction that was his own creation. The liquid seemed to have been blended with corruptive elements from darg magic, considering there was miasma oozing from it.

The concoction would weaken the circle without causing visible damage.

To the untrained eye, it would look as though the ritual failed on its own.

"I can’t let them bind the curse," Soran murmured to himself with conviction. "If they succeed, Vivian will be beyond my reach. Her connection to the Old World will be sealed away, and so will my chance to harness its power." He clenched the vial so tightly that it almost shattered and he reminded himself to remain calm.

Soran took out a delicate brush from his coat after pouring the liquid over the symbol of balance.

Using the brush, he blended the dark liquid into the carvings and the glow from the symbol dimmed for a moment before returning, but he knew very well the damage was set in motion.

The corruptive energy would interfere with the flow of magic during the ritual and cause instability that the three Coven Masters would struggle to control.

Vivian was his old chance at returning to the Old World and if it meant defying Lady Morgana to reach his goal, then so be it.

Nothing would stop him.

Satisfied with his work, Soran moved onto the anchor symbol for control, pausing when he heard the echo of a sound in the chambers. He scrutinised the area, eyes narrowing as he checked to ensure no one was nearby.

His hand hovered over the symbol, but another sound made him freeze—a soft creak of footsteps from the hall drawing closer and louder.

Hastily, Soran capped the vial and slipped it back into the inside pocket of his coat. To cover his tracks, he pretended to be brushing imaginary dust from the floor and ensuring that the Triune Circle was cleaned properly.

Soran’s body stiffened when the unexpected figure arrived and the latent magic in the air erupted because of their presence, making it difficult for him to breathe.

"Soran," the figure uttered his name, his voice feathery and light but also firm. "What are you doing here alone?"

Soran stood up and slowly turned around, flashing a calm and friendly smile on his face.

"Ah, Lord Orion. I was just inspecting the circle. I thought it wise to ensure everything is in place before the ritual. With magic this powerful, even the smallest flaw could mean disaster."

Soran was never fond of Orion. The young prodigy was far too perceptive for his own good, and much like Soran, he was deceptive and always masked his unsettling demeanour behind a sarcastic facade.

Orion’s eyes narrowed slightly as he approached, his gaze inspecting the symbols immediately. "You’re not usually so meticulous, Soran. Considering that you didn’t deactivate the rune pathway to the Mirror World when it was situated so close to Sabre Coven, I did not take you for one who is thorough." He flashed a mocking smile, irking the other Wickan.

Soran’s last nerve twitched and he struggled to force his smile. He never liked the sharpness in Orion’s words and in some ways it reminded him of Lady Morgana, who took him for granted.

Soran chuckled lightly, brushing his messy blonde hair back. "I’m just taking precautions, Lord Orion. We can’t afford to fail, can we?"

Orion’s expression softened slightly, though suspicion still lingered at the back of his mind. "True. But leave the final inspections to the council. It’s not your role to meddle." He was curt and straight to the point.

"Of course," Soran replied respectfully, inclining his head. "I’ll leave it to the experts."

Orion nodded, his hands clasped behind his back as he circled the rune drawings, inspecting them and the rest of the chambers. He was graceful, taking slow strides all the while eyeing Soran from the corner of his eyes

Soran tested his luck by lingering a little while longer; he tensed when Orion stopped right before the symbols of balance, investigating it much too closely for Soran’s liking. He swallowed thickly, cluching his coat where the vial was pocketed on the inside.

If it came down to it and the situation required him to go toe to toe with Orion, then so be it.

The sabotage was only half in place and when the ritual unravelled, just as Soran intended, the procedure wouldn’t go exactly as he planned. Nevertheless, he was forced to compromise for now and could improvise later

Soran took one last glance at the circle, his heart racing not with guilt but with anticipation. The Triune Circle would fail spectacularly and throw the three Coven Masters into chaos. In the confusion, perhaps he would be able to intervene and prevent the completion of the binding ritual.

The Old World was ingrained in his memories and it called to him for centuries.

He could no longer avoid its summons.

Suddenly, Orion’s voice snapped Soran out of his thoughts. "You’ve been lingering here too long. Go." It was a command, not a request.

As much as he detested it, Soran nodded obediently with a smile. He turned towards the exit of the ritual chambers, slowly taking his leave.

Yet as he left, he could sense Orion’s gaze boring into his back and a faint smile formed on his lips. Undoubtedly, there was a seed of suspicion that had been planted, but it would lead nowehere—at least, not yet.