Nothing.
Nothing happened at all.
Damian knew it couldn't be this simple. Not a single purple line on Kazak's body receded, not even a little. He tried everything he could think of, targeting his mind, specific purple lines, even using a lot of continuous healing, Yet there was no visible improvement. Kazak didn't even open his eyes, lying as if in a hibernating state. Damian couldn't push further; any more strain, and Kazak's body would perish from malnutrition.
With a heavy sigh, Damian used his World Shaper's hands to destroy the massive runic spell, watching as mana particles dispersed back into the environment. Gazing at Kazak's hunched form, Damian felt a pang of sorrow. Though he'd managed his expectations, it still hurt to see one of the few people he'd genuinely come to like end up like this. It wasn't just Kazak's suffering that stung—it was the knowledge that his execution, if it proceeded with the reason revealed, would tarnish his name and legacy forever.
