Black flames erupted from Max's hands.
The fire didn't roar.
It whispered.
And yet, in that whisper, it devoured Veylin whole.
The moment the flames touched his body, Veylin screamed.
"AGGHHHHHH!"
His voice ripped through the fog-choked air like a blade.
A raw, soul-wrenching, flesh-peeling scream that pierced straight into the bones of everyone present.
It was the kind of sound that shattered stillness.
The kind of scream that made even the cruelest hesitate.
"NO!"
Azula's scream followed. But hers wasn't rage.
It was grief.
Pure, furious, and maddening.
She surged forward like a storm, her eyes bloodshot, flames bursting from her fists, her aura boiling with chaos.
She was ready to kill Max.
To rip him apart, cell by cell.
But then—another figure stepped into her path.
King Magnar.
His expression was stone-cold, eyes grim.
"I can't let you get through," King Magnar said, his voice low and grim.
