Drunk on power, Max could not see what he was doing to Stonehollow. His fists clenched as he savored the crushing pressure building inside him while he devoured all the mana in the surrounding land. The air itself seemed to grow thinner, emptier, as if life were being wrung out of it. So much mana being stripped away was fatal to the crops and livestock.
Countless villagers wept as they watched their final stalks of wheat shrivel into brittle husks, bending lifelessly beneath the storm. The vegetable patches blackened at the roots, and the fruit trees drooped as though their souls had been drained from them.
Years of hunger would soon give way to death, and almost no one knew what had caused it except for the few who had allowed Max to undergo the awakening.
To many, it looked like divine punishment for the sins of their ancestors.
As the mana in the area thinned, so did the vortex. Small tears began to open within the swirling darkness, revealing fragments of the world outside to Max.
His excited eyes darkened the moment they met Rosalia's face. Tears had dried in pale streaks across her cheeks, the wind tugging at her white hair as she knelt helplessly on the ground.
"Why are you crying...?" Max muttered under his breath. He couldn't understand why she was not happy for him, why she, out of everyone there, was looking at him as though he were a monster... as though he had torn her world apart with his own hands.
A sharp pain twisted through his chest at the thought of being betrayed by her. But as more tears split open in the unstable vortex, the truth finally forced itself into his eyes.
The screams reached him first. Then the terror. Then the sight of Stonehollow crumbling beneath the weight of his awakening.
Only then did he understand.
He was destroying everything.
Guilt and fear crashed over him like a tidal wave, washing away every trace of the pride that had filled him only moments before.
"I have to stop it..." he whispered, his head lowered. Deep in his heart, he had wanted to test the power of his system on this clan, to raise them to glory while absorbing their bloodline and growing stronger himself in the process. But now, he didn't know how he would ever face Rosalia again after destroying her home so recklessly.
"But it isn't my fault..." He clenched his fists until they bled. "No... it is. It's my power. I have to own it like a man."
Rosalia's face reflected in his pupils. More than anything, he could not bear the sight of her tears. It was a feeling he could not explain, an instinct buried deep within him—the instinct of a man who wanted to protect his chosen mate.
He extended his hand, trying to imagine himself controlling the flow of energy, willing it to stop devouring the mana around him. But his face paled when he realized nothing was happening. No matter how many times he tried, again and again, it didn't work. He had not yet learned how to command his own power.
Filled with desperation, he turned to the system, hoping it could solve all of his problems. But no matter how many times he called out, the system gave no response, leaving him with a growing sense of helplessness.
"I have to do it... stop... enough!"
As if answering the desperate cry in his heart, a violent pulse erupted from deep within him. The vortex vanished like a shattered cloud of dust, scattering in every direction. The winds battering the people nearby calmed at once, allowing Henry to rise to his feet again.
He looked at Max with a hatred so deep it seemed carved into his very soul. Never before had the urge to kill consumed him so completely. A purple flame danced in his palm, fiercer than before, blazing with greater heat—yet somehow carrying a chill as cold as ice.
"I should kill you. I should make you slave away for the rest of your life for what you've done to us..." He stepped forward, and the flame in his palm twisted into the shape of a falcon. "But it was I who caused this, through my own misjudgment in allowing you to awaken here."
The falcon shot from his hand like a beam of light. It brushed past Max's ear and soared high into the sky, drawing his gaze upward as he followed its path.
"Still far away... We have time to flee." Henry's eyes burned with purple light, and faint reflections of the distant mountains and sky shimmered deep within his pupils. "Gather the women and children. We leave at once."
Then he turned toward Rosalia, who was still kneeling on the ground, her expression vacant as she stared at Max without once breaking her gaze.
"Rosalia!" Henry barked.
Snapping back to reality, Rosalia rose to her feet. Her eyes did not once fall on Max again, even as he stepped toward her with his hand half-reaching out.
"Yes, Father." She nodded and turned away, the tears in her eyes long since dried.
"Rosalia, wait. I can fix this, I—" Max called out desperately, but all he received in return was a cry filled with pain.
"Haven't you done enough?!" Rosalia spun around, her eyes blazing with killing intent. "Look at this! Look at what you've done after we showed you kindness. Even if it's not entirely your fault, even if it was a power you couldn't control, I... I can never forgive you for this!"
She rushed toward him, stepping onto the shattered platform. A loud slap cracked through the village. The look in her eyes was something Max knew he would never forget for the rest of his life. The pain in them, the hatred in them, wounded him far more deeply than the slap itself ever could.
"Never show your face in front of me again."
She turned and hurried away to follow her father's orders, leaving Max standing there in stunned silence.
For a long moment, he remained frozen in place, unsure whether to chase after her or simply walk away.
Henry remained where he was as well, surveying the ruined surroundings until the purple flame in his eyes finally faded.
"Boy," he barked at Max, noticing the struggle written across his face. "If you truly want to fix this, if you want even the slightest chance at redemption, then help me fight the enemies that are coming."
Henry could already see the immense potential in Max's power. He knew he could use it to hold back the approaching disaster, even if only for a little while. That would be enough time for Rosalia to flee with the women, children, and the weakest members of the clan, while the men stayed behind to prepare for death.
Max lifted his head and stared at Henry in confusion, but something deep within him forced a nod. He did not care who the enemy was.
All he wanted was to see her again.