Each insult Rex hurled was not merely a word; it was a surgical strike. He wasn't just attacking Leonidas's pride; he was excavating his guilt, peeling back the layers of the man's psyche to expose the festering wounds underneath.
These were not petty taunts; they were cold, precise instruments of psychological warfare, designed to ignite the very fuel Leonidas needed to become a monster.
Rex watched with detached fascination as the effect took hold. The red lines etched into Leonidas's skin began to pulse with an erratic, violent rhythm.
They glowed brighter with every syllable, casting jagged shadows across the ruined garden.
The Crimson Sovereign Edge began to hum a low, subsonic vibration that made the very air tremble and the teeth of anyone nearby ache.
'There it is,' Rex thought, his mind a calm lake amidst the storm of Leonidas's fury. 'The breaking point.'
'Feed the fire, Leonidas.'
'Burn everything until there is nothing left but the ash of who you used to be.'
