".... It's a prison."
The realization hit Wang Xiao like a hammer. Neither of them was truly free. Maliketh's cursed immortality ensured he would rise again and again, while the woman—her strength immense—was shackled to this eternal cycle of destruction.
For a long moment, Wang Xiao simply stood there, silent, watching the battle of wills repeat itself.
Finally, he let out a breath, stepping back into his body. His eyes on the throne and the golden chains.
"An endless fight," he muttered, his voice low. "What kind of hatred traps two people like this?"
A part of him wanted to intervene, but another part… didn't.
Maliketh, locked in eternal torment, was oddly satisfying. Oh, Wang Xiao had no qualms about Maliketh suffering forever—he just wanted to be the one doing the torturing. Still, this situation smelled too strange to ignore. Something deeper was happening here, and he needed answers.
