“How… dare you…”

He asked with laboured breadth. Blood flowed from multiple wounds in his body.

“What were you promised to forsake me!”

The woman sneered.

“Forsake you? Do you not remember your promise? Riches and Wealth more worthy than the whole realm of Proxima!? Well guess what? I was promised more than that. And it was only your fault! You’ve been disheartened ever since Her death. It has been 10 fucking years. She was never worthy of you anyway. Yet you were wasting your life ”

“That is not for you to decide! I’m the only one who can decide how I lived! You should have left me if you so much hate living with me so much!”

She looked at him with a sneer. But didn't reply to his statement.

“It’s too late now, anyway. You're already dead. Not even death will have mercy on you.”

...

...

Nolan looked over his empire. The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery glow upon the tranquil waters surrounding the maritime fortress. Standing at the dockyard of his capital, his thoughts consumed by the unease which have filled him this whole day.

"You seem troubled, my love," Violet whispered.

Beside him stood Violet and Cyrus, his most trusted Warlocks. There were four of them but now only three of them remained. The trio had weathered countless storms together, both literal and metaphorical, forging bonds that ran as deep as the oceans they ruled. Or so he had believed until their betrayal.

"Aye, a strom is brewing."

There was no answer from her side. As if his words were heard by gods above, a tense air settled over the fortress, and the once jovial laughter that filled the party halls had turned to whispers. Nolan keen senses detected the subtle shift in their demeanor even though he was all the way to the docks. Though he liked to think him as powerful, he won't have noticed the changes if it was only to a few, but it seems that everyone in the fortress is affected.

Are we under a spell? There is no mana fluctuation in the surrounding. He readied myself but the last 10 years have coroded his skills.

He glanced at her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Why did she not ask about my comment? She is an active woman, wanting to dive into every situation. Nolan shook his head. What was he thinking? She will never betray him even if her behaviour is little stange today.

"Something doesn't feel right tonight. The sea is too calm, and the air too heavy with mana. Ready yourself. We may be under attack." Nolan said.

Cyrus, usually the embodiment of **precaution,** shake his head in denial.

"No, I haven't felt anything. Are you sure?"

Did he really not feel the changes? He should be if he was concentrating? Especially when Nolan informend them to be ready. Or is he hulinacating? Troubled, he turned toward him.

But before he could say anything else, Violet raised her left hand toward his right. Instinctively, he intertwined thier fingers, a gesture that had been a comforting sign of their connection for years.

But as soon as their hands touched, he felt a searing pain surge through him, and his connection to his power began to wane. He can feel his abilities, his very essence, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

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The connection that he felt since his youth, seems to have lost for the first time in the last two decades years.

Desperation welled up within him, and a

His eyes snapped to his hand. His concentration fully focused on the hand. As he observed her hand, he saw the ring on Voilet's hand glowing with a warring force of light and darkness. As the ring continued to touched his skin, his powers continued to weaken, and he knew that his time was running out.

He yanked back with every ounce of his remaining strength, yet he can't budge her hand.

"Violet, remove your hands from me. It's disrupting my powers."

As, he looked up to her, the once beatufil vface was twisted in a sneer which he have only seen when she was eyeing her enemys.

"And if I don't?"

He knew that he cannot win in this struggle of strength. His comrades have concentrated in the mastery of mana and body, especially with the help of the system, whereas he have refined his control over his unique abilities.

Now that the connection have been cut off, he realise the fault of his over specialisation. He tried to summoned torrents of water in a futile attempt to break free from her grasp. But the water didn't move as he desired.

The very fact that Cyrus didn't rush to help him have already told him that they are both in this together. And he was confident that Violet can handle me all on her own.

Soon, he was being led to the end of the dockyards. With a sinking heart, he realized the full extent of their betrayal. They were not alone anymore. Every guest invited to today's event wer there. He now knew that todays grand ending will be with his death.

The moonlight's feeble glimmer reflected eerily off the dark waters, casting elongated shadows that seemed to dance with malevolent intent.

As the ocean's relentless embrace dragged him into its cold, dark depths, he looked up one last time at the people that had once been his sanctuary. The silhouette of the maritime stronghold stood tall against the night sky, but now it appeared as a looming specter, haunted by the deeds that had unfolded within its walls. The distant echo of laughter, now tainted with malice, reverberated through the chambers of his memory.

It was now the symbol of his downfall, a monument to the treachery of those he had trusted most, a fortress of deceit that crumbled the foundation of his beliefs.

As he drowned further into the deep, the world above faded into obscurity, and the crushing weight of the ocean's depths pressed down upon him. The darkness enveloped him like a shroud, and the cold seeped into his bones. Yet, a spark of determination blazed within him, a stubborn defiance against the inevitability of his fate.

He couldn't help but let out a bitter, mirthless laugh, a laugh that echoed with the knowledge that he would make them pay, no matter the depths he had to sink to. The sound of his laughter mingled with the haunting cries of the sea, creating a discordant symphony of despair and rage.

His struggles continued, even as he sank into the inky blackness, determined to defy his fate until his last breath.