The words hit Rodrick like a physical blow, his breath catching as the sword trembled violently in his grasp, the tip dipping toward the floor.
He almost dropped it, his fingers slackening as his mind struggled to comprehend what he was hearing. His son—his demon, his nightmare—stood before him, drenched in the blood of others, offering his own life with a smile, as if it were a gift.
Wayne on the other hand staggered back a step, his hand flying to his mouth as he stared at Cassius, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Young Master...What...What are you saying?"
Rodrick also joined in the protest, his gaze darting between the sword and Cassius, his heart pounding as a storm of emotions raged within him—fear, fury, confusion, and something deeper, something he couldn't name.
"You're...You're mad." He finally rasped, his voice cracking as he clutched the weapon tighter, as if it could anchor him against the insanity of the moment. "This is a trick—a lie! You can't mean this!"
