I watched as Riken moved, his body trembling with raw, untamed fury. The hatred inside him surged, twisting his face into a mask of pure rage, his claws extending, muscles coiling in preparation for a strike that held nothing but vengeance.
The air around him seemed to pulse with his anger, his mana spilling out in waves as if he could no longer contain it.
A part of me understood that feeling, that deep, simmering wrath that came from betrayal and loss. But I also knew what lay on the other side of it. Hatred only hollows you out, leaving nothing but an empty shell, a life swallowed by revenge and fury.
I'd seen it happen before, to others, and to myself. And I wouldn't let that fate befall this kid if I could help it.
That was not why I was here.
'These two must have crossed many lines already.'
Being a slave to the dark mage.
It wouldn't be an occupation that one would live their lives cleanly. That much was obvious.
