He turned to Randall, his voice trembling slightly though his face was set. "Uncle, you can do it, right?"
Randall gave a solemn nod, his expression filled with pity.
Ethan stood still with a heart heavy, feeling as though a piece of his morality was slipping away from his grasp.
Randall slowly stepped closer to the cub. The little creature was curled against a large chunk of ice mana crystal, its chest rising and falling with each calm breath.
The air around it shimmered faintly with mana, and Randall could feel a pressure that made his skin crawl. His face grew tense as he tightened his grip on the sword, lifting it high with a heavy heart.
With one swift motion, he thrust the blade down. The steel pierced into the cub's small body, and a sharp cry rang out.
The cub screamed in pain.
A raw and heartbreaking sound echoed through the place. Ethan, standing behind, clenched his fists and turned his head away, unable to watch as guilt pressed against his chest.
