The air around them thickened with an oppressive weight, the very atmosphere crackling with the sinister energy that emanated from Nyx. The adventurers who had just moments ago been jeering at Zyrith now stood frozen, their bravado shattered by the overwhelming presence before them. To their eyes, the mana surrounding Nyx had taken the form of a colossal saber-toothed tiger, its spectral fangs bared in a silent roar that echoed through the darkened square. It was as if they were mere children, dwarfed by a beast that embodied their worst nightmares.

The adventurers’ knees buckled, and they collapsed to the ground, their bodies trembling uncontrollably. The power that radiated from Nyx was unlike anything they had ever encountered—a force of pure, unbridled malice. As he approached them, his footsteps slow and deliberate, the only sound that reached their ears was a faint, chilling whisper.

“I’m not useless…”

The words slipped from Nyx’s lips like a mantra, a dark incantation fueled by years of torment and suffering. His mind was a maelstrom of memories, each one feeding the rage that now consumed him. Every beating from his stepfather, every taunt from the bullies at school, every sneer from Princess Seraphine, and every insult from the Crimson Claw—they all coalesced into a singular drive for retribution.

“I’ll kill you for looking down on me…”

The whisper grew louder, more insistent, as Nyx drew closer to the cowering adventurers. His red eye burned with a terrifying intensity, the only visible part of his face hidden beneath his golden hair. The adventurers could do nothing but stare, their terror rendering them completely immobile. They had become prisoners to their own fear, unable to move, unable to speak, as the embodiment of their doom loomed over them.

Nyx lifted his hand, his fingers curling into a claw-like gesture as he prepared to unleash his power. The air around him began to swirl, the purple mana that enveloped him growing denser, more violent. Above him, the spectral saber-tooth tiger let out a silent roar, its ethereal fangs snapping with the promise of destruction. The Razor Wind was on the verge of being unleashed, a storm of deadly, razor-sharp air that would tear the adventurers to pieces without mercy.

But just as the energy reached its peak, a voice cut through the darkness like a beacon of light.

“Nyx!”

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Zyrith’s voice rang out, desperate and urgent, as she pushed herself up from the ground and ran in front of him. She skidded to a halt, her body interposing itself between Nyx and the adventurers, her arms outstretched as if to shield them. Her violet eyes were wide with a mix of fear and determination, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stood her ground.

“Nyx, stop!” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “They don't deserve it!”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The spectral tiger above Nyx paused mid-roar, its energy flickering uncertainly. Zyrith’s words penetrated the storm of rage that clouded Nyx’s mind, cutting through the fog of his memories. His red eye flickered, the intensity of his gaze faltering as he locked eyes with Zyrith.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Nyx lowered his hand. The swirling mana around him began to dissipate, the spectral tiger fading into the ether. The oppressive weight that had hung in the air lifted, leaving behind only the faint echo of what could have been. Nyx took a step back, his breathing heavy, his mind still reeling from the onslaught of emotions that had nearly consumed him.

He looked at Zyrith, who was still standing with her arms outstretched, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. The raw emotion in her eyes—fear, concern, and something else—pierced through the last vestiges of his anger. It was enough to break the hold that the past had on him, if only for a moment.

Nyx smacked his teeth in irritation, the sound harsh in the sudden quiet. He turned away, his movements abrupt and final, as if to shut out the emotions that had been stirred within him. Without a word, he began to walk away, his steps purposeful and determined.

The adventurers, now released from the paralyzing grip of terror, scrambled to their feet. They exchanged a terrified glance before bolting in the opposite direction, their fear driving them to flee as fast as their legs could carry them. They didn’t look back, the memory of Nyx’s red eye and the terrifying power he had nearly unleashed seared into their minds.

Zyrith watched them go, her heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. She felt a wave of relief wash over her, but it was tempered by the realization of just how close they had come to disaster. She turned back to where Nyx had been walking, only to find that he was gone.

Nyx had vanished into the night, leaving behind only the faint trace of his presence, like the fading echo of a distant thunderclap. Zyrith’s shoulders sagged with exhaustion, her mind reeling from everything that had transpired. She had seen the depths of Nyx’s pain, the fury that lay beneath his cold exterior. And she had seen just how dangerous he could be when that fury was unleashed.

But more than anything, she had seen a glimpse of the boy he once was—the boy who had been hurt, abandoned, and left to fend for himself in a world that had never shown him kindness. It was that boy who had hesitated, who had listened when she called his name.

And it was that boy who had walked away, leaving her standing alone in the empty square, with only the memory of his red eye and the roar of the saber-tooth tiger to keep her company.