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Chapter 63 - Chapter 63 – The Weight of Pain

The battlefield of Suckersburg had turned silent in the most dangerous way possible.

Not peaceful silence—

but the kind that comes right before something breaks permanently.

Jhonathan staggered back.

A blade made of bone had struck him cleanly.

It didn't just wound him.

It removed his arm completely.

For a moment, he didn't react.

Not because he was fine—

but because his mind refused to process it.

His breathing slowed.

His eyes went distant.

Images flashed.

His past party.

Sylviana.

Moments he tried to bury.

Battles he survived but never escaped from emotionally.

"…No…"

His voice cracked slightly.

"…Not again…"

His sword slipped from his remaining hand.

It hit the ground.

No resistance.

No instinct.

Just fear.

Draco Jay tilted his head, stepping closer.

He leaned in slightly, studying him like prey.

Then—

he grabbed him.

Pain surged instantly.

Not just physical.

Conceptual.

Like suffering itself had a shape now.

Jhonathan's eyes widened.

Trauma surged through him in waves—memories twisting into reality again.

Draco Jay smiled.

"…I will make you remember pain."

His grip tightened.

Jhonathan's right hand—

exploded.

Not blood.

Not gore.

But forced destruction of structure.

Draco Jay laughed softly.

"…Good."

But then—

the air changed.

A blade cut through space itself.

Clean.

Precise.

Absolute.

Draco Jay's arm was severed mid-motion.

Silence snapped back into place.

Sylviana stood there.

Her presence different now.

Not emotional.

Not hesitant.

But sharpened.

Focused.

Like something had awakened in her that no longer allowed hesitation.

A glowing aura surrounded her body.

Not warm.

Not gentle.

Judgment-like.

She looked at Draco Jay directly.

No fear.

No rage.

Just certainty.

"…Don't touch him."

Her voice was quiet.

But the pressure behind it crushed the battlefield for a moment.

Draco Jay slowly stepped back, watching her.

His grin widened slightly.

"…So you're still here."

Sylviana raised her blade slightly.

No words.

Only intent.

And for the first time in this battlefield—

someone didn't look like prey.

They looked like an ending.

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