Elethion stood in the heart of the chaos, surrounded by curses and fury. Stones continued to rain down from the villagers' hands, yet he did not move. His body felt heavy, as if sinking into the depths of an ocean of guilt, unable even to breathe properly.
The psychological pain was heavier than any wound he had ever sustained on the battlefield. These villagers were not enemies wielding swords—they were victims… victims of a war they did not choose, a war forced upon them by conflicts far beyond their control.
Amidst the turmoil, an old woman slowly made her way through the crowd.
She was the same woman he had seen when he came to fight Nephilim. That wise-looking woman, who back then seemed like a keeper of ancient secrets. But now, she was nothing like before…
She looked exhausted, burdened with wounds, the marks of destruction evident on her frail body. Her clothes were torn, her face covered in dust and tears. She leaned on her staff, struggling with each step as if she might collapse at any moment.
And yet, there was an eerie presence in her being.
The people stopped throwing stones. The shouting gradually died down, until the only sound left was her heavy footsteps on the shattered ground.
When she finally stood before Elethion, she lifted her face to him, her eyes shimmering with tears of both anger and sorrow. Then, in a trembling yet firm voice, she spoke:
"Elethion… Listen carefully to what I am about to say. Open your ears well, for these words will haunt you forever."
Elethion lifted his gaze to her, his eyes filled with shock. His heart pounded violently, yet he remained motionless.
Then, without warning, she began to whisper a strange incantation.
Her words were obscure, foreign, like an ancient language lost to time. Elethion had never heard anything like it before—nor had anyone else present. Her voice echoed through the air, as if tearing through the very fabric of reality.
And then… her eyes began to change color.
The transformation was terrifying—her once-normal eyes turned into a deep, abyssal black, a darkness so profound it felt endless. It was as if the void itself had consumed her gaze. The wind around her grew fierce, swirling violently, responding to some unseen force.
Elethion felt an immense pressure crushing his chest, as though an invisible force was pulling him toward the old woman. Even his generals instinctively stepped back, their hands gripping their swords, but none dared to interfere.
Then, suddenly, the old woman screamed at the top of her lungs, as if tearing the sky itself:
"The Eternal Curse of Loyalty!"
In that instant, a black light exploded from her body, surging like waves of darkness, intertwining like cold flames that devoured the air around them.
Elethion was struck by an unseen force, feeling it tear through him from the inside, as though something was being embedded deep within his very soul, carving into his essence and altering his being. It was not physical pain—it was something far worse. It was an existential agony, a torment beyond human comprehension.
As the storm finally subsided, the old woman collapsed to the ground, laughing hysterically. Yet, even amidst her laughter, tears streamed down her face, as though mourning a fate that could never be undone.
Then, with a voice weakened by pain, she looked at Elethion and uttered her final words before losing consciousness:
"Now… Elethion… your curse is eternal immortality."
"An immortality that will not be a blessing, but a torment… A torment for you and for all who love or remain loyal to you."
"Anyone who loves you… will suffer."
"Anyone who is faithful to you… will be cursed."
"And this will be your eternal punishment… You, who once believed yourself to be a savior."
Then she closed her eyes and fell silent, tears still streaming down her face.
A heavy silence fell over the village. No one dared to move. No one even dared to breathe loudly.
The soldiers, the villagers, the generals… all stood frozen, as if witnessing a catastrophe that could never be undone.
As for Elethion… he stood there, his body rigid, his eyes wide, as if his mind could not comprehend what had just happened.
"Immortality…?"
He repeated the word in his mind, but he could not grasp its meaning. He could not accept it.
But deep inside, he already knew the truth.
He could feel it—he felt the change within his very existence, as if time itself had ceased to touch him, as if his body had been severed from the cycle of life and death.
The truth was undeniable, crushing, inescapable.
Valinor was the first to move, stepping forward cautiously and speaking in a wary voice: "My lord… Are you alright?"
But Elethion did not answer.
Darsian, meanwhile, stared intently at the unconscious old woman, his sharp mind already analyzing the events, though he said nothing.
Ragarth looked as though he had yet to fully process what had happened, but his grip on his sword tightened, as if any wrong move could push him to strike something—anything.
Velaria was the calmest among them, yet she observed Elethion with an unreadable gaze, as if he had transformed into something unknown, something unfamiliar.
Cyrinos, despite his usual strength, seemed shaken by the events, a hint of unease in his expression.
They all understood one thing: This was not just empty words… This was an irreversible truth.
Finally, after a long silence, Elethion whispered with a voice weighed down by despair, as if the words had been torn from the depths of his shattered soul:
"Eternal… immortality?"
He slowly lifted his head, gazing at the horizon as if the sky itself had become his prison.
This was not merely a punishment…
This was a sentence—one that would last for all eternity.
Elethion remained standing, like a ghost trapped between the past and present, while the old woman lay motionless on the ground, unconscious, as if her frail body could not withstand the weight of the curse she had cast upon him.
He had heard her words… felt them seep into his veins, into his soul. It was not just passing words—something inside him had changed, something irreversible.
And yet, despite it all, when he saw her lying there, struggling to breathe, drowning in her own tears, he could not simply stand and watch.
He took a step toward her.
But.
The villagers had not forgotten who Elethion was to them.
To them, he was not the hero he believed himself to be. He was the cause of destruction, the source of their pain, the reason for all their losses.
The moment he moved, their furious cries erupted once more:
"Don't touch her!"
"Stay away from her, destroyer!"
"Haven't you done enough?!"
Then, once again, they began hurling everything within reach—stones, pieces of wood, even some spat at him!
Some of the stones struck him, but he did not flinch. He did not even raise a hand to defend himself. His body was here, but his soul was elsewhere…
It was there, in the eyes of the little girl who ran through the crowd, screaming in a trembling voice, a voice carrying all the sorrow in the world:
"Grandmother! No! Not you too!"
She was a small child, barely six years old, her dark hair disheveled as she sprinted forward, tears streaming down her face so fiercely that she could barely see her way.
She fell to her knees beside the old woman, shaking her violently as she sobbed, her cries piercing the air:
"Wake up! Please!"
But the old woman did not respond. She did not open her eyes.
Elethion had seen this scene before…
Somewhere else… In another time…
But it was not this girl he saw.
It was his own daughter, Ilora, crying the same way, shedding the same tears, drowning in the same pain.
It was the same sorrow, the same helplessness, the same despair he had seen in Ilora's eyes when she thought he was going to die.
"Father… Mother… and now you?!"
The child's voice was heavy with betrayal, with a crushing loneliness, as if the entire world had collapsed upon her in a single moment.
She lifted her tear-streaked face, looking directly at him, her sobs relentless, as if they would never stop. Then, her voice broke as she screamed:
"Why… why do you all leave me?!"
And it was as if those words were not only meant for the old woman… but for him as well.
As if she were saying: You are the reason.
You are the reason she is alone now.
You are the reason for everything that has happened.
You… are the curse.
For a moment, Elethion felt as if the ground beneath his feet had become unsteady.
He wanted to say something—anything—but the words refused to come.
What could he possibly say?
Apologize?
Tell her he never meant for this to happen?
But would that change anything?
No.
There was nothing to say. Nothing to fix.
He carried immense power within him, had fought in wars, had shattered great enemies… yet now, he could not even face the tears of a small child.
He stood there, frozen, as the little girl continued to cry, clinging to her grandmother's hand as if trying to wake her by sheer will alone.
And in that moment, deep within his soul, Elethion realized something truly terrifying:
"I have become a curse… to everyone around me."
He realized that this child might be the first… but she would not be the last.
Everyone who loved him, everyone who trusted him, everyone who stood by his side…
Would meet the same fate—suffering, grief, agony.
The five generals stood behind him in silence, watching everything unfold, yet none of them dared to intervene.
This was more than a battle, more than a political decision, more than war itself.
This was a turning point in Elethion's fate.
This was the day… a new fear was born in his heart.
A fear he had never known before.
A fear of himself.
A fear that he would be the cause of suffering for everyone he loved.
A fear that he had lost his humanity… forever.